A Year in the Life of a Wizarding Werewolf
by Lupins Lair
Summary: Set during the Marauders' fifth year at Hogwarts, this collection of essays are from Remus' POV, detailing events which highlighted that year. Lots of MWPP action, with some Snape thrown in for your reading pleasure. COMPLETE
1. A New Term Begins

**Disclaimer:** The wizarding world in all its entirety belongs to the one and only J.K. Rowling. I just enjoy Potter-ing around with her creation. 

**Author's Notes:**  This story takes place during the Marauders' fifth year at Hogwarts, written from Remus Lupin's POV. I do not intend for this to be a novel in the traditional sense. Rather, it would be more like a series of short stories detailing certain events that highlighted the year. Lots of MWPP action, with some Snape thrown in for your reading pleasure.

_Special note:_ I will be fleshing out Peter a bit throughout this series, and try to give him a personality outside of the pallid one he seemed to have in the Pensieve scene in OotP, and the weak, fickle one he had in PoA. I find it hard to make Pettigrew completely canon according to JKR's books. The main reason being, if Peter was really that insipid and weak and clingy, I cannot see James and Sirius, being the way they were, stick with him and be best friends with him throughout their time at Hogwarts together. There must have been something there that made them think Peter was a good friend.

**A Year in the Life of a Wizarding Werewolf**

**- A New Term Begins**

His mother's stream of last-minute instructions pelted down onto Remus's head as he hauled his trunk onto the Hogwarts Express.

"I hope you won't get into mischief this year Remus. It is a very important year, with the OWLs and career choosing coming up. You will focus your energies on that, right?" she reminded him anxiously. "It is—"

"My whole future," Remus droned mechanically. He had gotten multiple versions of this same piece of advice throughout the summer. "I know."

He understood why his mother was so concerned. After all, the OWLs were the gateway to whatever career one wanted to go into later on in life. Naturally all parents would be keen that their kids applied themselves more than ever. But Mrs Lupin had another reason for her fretfulness. Remus was a werewolf, and there really weren't that many job openings for a lycanthrope. The options open to him were few and far between, and to get those, he would have to very much prove himself, more so than the average wizard.

Remus turned round and gave his mother a smile and a hug, reassuring her that he got her message. He didn't really need the incessant cascade of advice. After all, he always gave his best shot in all his classes. It was his way of proving to himself that being a werewolf didn't necessarily stunt his academic abilities, and to show the professors that Professor Dumbledore's belief in him was justified. His mother knew that of course, but that never stopped her worrying. 

"Hey Remus!" A voice carried over the crowds at the platform. 

Remus whirled round, and saw a tuft of unruly hair making its way through the groups of kids saying their final goodbyes to their parents. It belonged to a thin-faced, bespectacled boy. Following him closely was an extremely handsome dark-haired boy who was grinning cheekily.

"James! Sirius!" Remus cried happily. "How are you? Need help with the trunks?"

"Yes, if you won't mind," said Sirius, struggling with his trunk, while stuffing a few packets of Dungbombs and Fizzing Whizbees into his coat pocket.

Remus took a hold of one end of Sirius's trunk and dragged it onto the train.  "What about you, James?" he asked, turning round to his friend. 

James was busy eyeing a crowd of girls standing around a few feet away from him, one of which was a fellow fifth-year, Lily Evans. Remus met Sirius's gaze and rolled his eyes as James gave a low whistle.  

"No, I'll be fine," replied James distractedly. He hoisted the trunk up deftly and shoved it onto the train in one swift action before sneaking a peek at the girls out of the corner of his eye. A few of them were staring at him, looking rather impressed. James threw them a cheeky grin and ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand up even more startlingly. He was panting slightly, betraying the effort exerted in that one moment of bravado. Lily however, shot him a contemptuous look, and the smile on James's face faltered.

"C'mon!" growled Sirius impatiently, prodding him in the back and propelling him onto the train. "Bloody Casanova!" he muttered under his breath.

Remus followed them, calling to his mum over his shoulder. "Bye mum! I'll send an owl over the weekend to let you know how I got on." 

With that, he hopped onto the train. A rumble and a shudder told him the train was starting up. The crowd of students chatting outside hurriedly scrambled onto the train, and as the guard slammed the doors shut and the train pulled away from the platform, Remus caught a last glimpse of his mother waving at him, mouthing the words, "be careful!"

Remus chuckled to himself as he hastened to catch up with the other two. It was sage advice, what with impetuous friends such as James and Sirius. They-who-were-permanently-up-to-something. In comparison to them, Remus was positively angelic. 

The three managed to find an empty compartment a couple doors down and settled in. Remus, however, stood up almost right away. 

"Sit down, Moony. Have a sugar quill," said Sirius, taking a stash out from his pockets. 

"And a Chocolate Frog," came a higher-pitched voice from the doorway.

It was Peter. He came in, tossing down about a dozen Chocolate Frogs onto where Sirius had piled his sweets.

"I am so glad I found you lot," he breathed, relief evident in his voice. "I was looking all over for you. And then I just _had_ to bump into Snape on my way up here," he muttered, lowering his voice to a whisper, looking slightly uneasy. 

Peter had mousy hair, and a rather heavy frame, especially when compared to James's athletic build, Sirius's slender one and Remus's thin one, kept rather slight and frail due to his monthly transformations. His voice, rather high-pitched, had a tendency to go squeaky when he was nervous.

"Here, sit down," said Remus, guiding Peter to where he had been.

"So, what was ole Snivelly up to?" drawled James, slithering down his seat and propping his feet up onto the one opposite him, his long legs stretched across the width of the carriage. "Hexing the girls while leaving a trail of grease in his wake?"

Sirius roared, Remus frowned slightly, while Peter gave a flustered laugh, gnawing at a Chocolate Frog nervously.

"No. He just glared at me, through that greasy curtain of hair he has," he replied, loosening up, relaxed now he was in the safety of the compartment with his friends. "Lots of beady eye work, with a fair amount of nostril action as well," he added.

James laughed heartily while Sirius tried to mimic Snape, using the description Peter had just provided. Remus, slipping out the door, tried to suppress a smile.

"Hey, and where exactly are you heading off to?" asked James, turning towards the doorway.

Remus self-consciously fingered a small shiny badge on his robes. "Er," he stammered a little, "I just remembered I have to go to the prefect's carriage, you know, to get instructions and stuff."

"Oh yes, of course!" exclaimed James, grinning widely. "I _totally_ forgot about the prefect honour you were given, mate." 

"It would only go to someone as studious and responsible as you," added Sirius with a very solemn face.

"Which was why none of us three were in the running for the position," finished Peter.

Remus gave them all a withering look and turned to leave, calling out after him, "I'll be back in a bit."

"Take a quill with you, and a Frog," called Peter, sticking his head round the door and handing him one of each.

"Thanks," said Remus, accepting the sweets, and dashed off. 

He fingered his Prefect's badge, pinned tightly onto his robes, as he made his way up the length of the train to the prefect's compartment. He would never say it out loud, nor explicitly show off about it, but he was secretly really very pleased at being assigned a prefect. Not because of having the right to keep people in check and to make sure they behaved themselves, nor to use his power to get back at old enemies (who shall remain nameless). No, the disciplinary duties that come with the job would most likely be his least favourite part. But what warmed him was that this was yet another gesture that demonstrated Professor Dumbledore's trust in him. Remus will admit he did go an awful lot by others' opinions of him and took too much to heart both the praise and the criticisms. It was a character flaw in which his mum had often warned him about and tried to ease him out of. But it was dreadfully difficult if you were a creature people feared and hated. Feeling inferior and carrying around with you the fear of rejection was like a complimentary package that came with the werewolf curse. And he didn't ask for either.

Breathing a bit heavily from his brisk walk up the train, he slid open the compartment door to the prefect's carriage. He was joined by Ravenclaw's Cheryl Boot, rushing up behind him. 

"Sorry I'm late," she said apologetically to those gathered inside the carriage as the two of them filled up the remainder of the seats. "I had to make sure my little brother was settled in before I could come up."  

The Head Girl, Twyla McVeigh gave her a curt nod, and took up the piece of parchment she had in front of her without waiting for Remus's excuse. She started listing out the duties prefects were to have.

"First and foremost, you are to set an example of good behaviour for the other students. You are to see that decorum is observed at all times, and be prepared to step in when things get out of hand."

She paused, glancing down her sheet. "You will also have the responsibility of providing the passwords to your own common rooms, changing it when necessary, and ensuring that it is keep secret among those in your respective houses."

She drooned on, with the occasional interjections from the Head Boy Jonathan Keating. They went on talking about certain seasonal duties the prefects had, such as that of decorating the Great Hall for Christmas, arranging seating and ensuring civility during Quidditch matches (yeah right. Not when the Slytherins were involved, no.). His mind drifting, Remus cast his eyes over those seated in the carriage. 

Lily Evans was the other prefect from Gryffindor. Remus made a mental note to tell James that. He smirked inwardly, thinking of James's face when he told his friend that he had been in the same carriage with Lily. His eyes passed over the others. The boy from Ravenclaw was Mark Millen, then there were Thomas Zeller and Kathryn Morrow from Hufflepuff, and finally Artemis Slickwit and Suzanne Rockwood from Slytherin. Remus was shamelessly relieved that Snape was not a prefect. He wasn't keen on the idea of spending extra time with the Slytherin during prefect duties, not when he generally tried to avoid face-to-face confrontations with him under normal circumstances.

Half an hour later, the prefects filed out of the carriage as the Head Boy and Girl sent them off to patrol the corridors of the train. Remus strolled along, occasionally peeking into a carriage to ensure things were okay, until he reached the one his friends were in. With eight prefects on the prowl, he figured they couldn't all slack off at the same time. He would stay here with them for while before patrolling again.

He found the other three playing a rather boisterous game of Exploding Snap. Empty sweet wrappers littered the carriage and a small pile of Chocolate Frog Cards were stacked on the seat beside Peter. 

"Hiya Prefect," greeted out Sirius loudly. "Finished with your Royal meeting?" 

Remus gave him a friendly shove, picked up the Chocolate Frog Cards and began going through them. 

"Oh, shut up," he said amiably. "I am supposed to be patrolling the corridors." He paused as he came across a card he didn't have.

"So you are blowing that duty off then?" asked Peter, staring at him.

"I am going to start up again in a while," argued Remus. "Here, does anyone want the one of Bowman Wright?" he asked, showing he others the card he wanted.

His friends shook their heads. Remus pocketed the card and grabbed the last of the cauldron cakes. He was quite ravenous and it seemed as if he had missed the food trolley. 

"Here," said James, throwing him a packet of Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans. "We kept these for you too."

"Fanksh," said Remus, his mouth full. He suddenly remembered his mental note to tell James about Lily and swallowed hard. He was just about to open his mouth when James gave a jolt and sat straight up in his seat, sending the cards flying in each and every direction, much to Peter's annoyance (who was, for once, winning). James's hand shot up to his unruly hair, and Remus could see him fighting to steady himself as he said in a deep, mature voice.

"Oh hi Lily. How have you been?"

"Fine," she replied curtly. She gave Remus a stern look. "Lupin, you are supposed to be patrolling the corridors, not playing card games and stuffing yourself with sweets."

Remus got up and shuffled towards the door, sighing. 

"You want a Fizzing Whizbee, Lily?" asked James, slipping his hand into Sirius's coat pocket and pulling out a handful, as Lily turned to follow Remus out the door. 

"No thanks, Potter," she declined haughtily. "They rot the teeth."

Remus pretended to brush the hair out of his eyes in order to hide the fact that he was chortling. Inside the carriage, James stared incredulously at Lily's disappearing back. With a final glance, before he was hustled off by his fellow prefect, Remus saw Sirius grinning wickedly at his astounded friend while Peter had dissolved into helpless snorts of laughter.

The journey wore on. Remus popped by to chat with his friends every so often, while keeping a sharp look out for Lily. He didn't want to be reprimanded by her again. As the train neared its destination, Remus returned to the carriage to get ready to leave. He skimmed the floor with litter strewn all over it and with a quick flick of his wand, Banished the sweet wrappers into the bin. As the Hogwarts Expess pulled in at Hogsmeade station, the four of them exited the compartment to join the throng of students out in the corridor, waiting to pile out of the train.

Once disembarked, the four of them weaved their way through the mass of students to get to where the stagecoaches stood outside, ready to take them to Hogwarts Castle.

Remus stared at the black skeletal horses, positioned in front of each coach. Eerily elegant, with white, pupil-less eyes and giant leathery wings, the creatures looked rather sinister at first glance. Remus had been able to see them since his second year at the school though, when he had first encountered them. _Thestrals._ One could only see them if they had seen death in person. James, Sirius and Peter couldn't. Only he could as he has seen someone die. It was a kindly old witch he had met quite often in the cafeteria at the hospital where he was often admitted as a young boy to act as a guinea pig for werewolf cures. She didn't know what was really wrong with him of course, he never told her. She just took pity upon a seven-year old boy being stuck in a hospital and took to slipping him a Chocolate Frog each time she met him at the café. He hated every second of the time he had spent in hospitals trying out experimental cures, _none of which worked, _he thought dryly. But the chocolate had been nice.

Remus climbed into one of the carriages, followed by James, Sirius and Peter. The door slammed and the carriage lurched into motion. The journey was rather smooth, with minimal swaying, as there was only a light breeze blowing that night. Despite their emaciated look, Thestrals were hugely powerful creatures, and these, which were pulling their carriages, soared through the night in swift yet graceful strokes. After a short while, they pulled to a halt outside the large oak doors that lead into the castle.

The four of them climbed out, with Peter promptly tripping over Sirius, who'd bent down to pick up a Dungbomb that had fallen out of his pocket. This sent the boy flying face down onto the stone steps leading up to the front doors. Heaving himself up, Peter caught sight of Snape looking down at him with a leering smirk. He flushed, picking himself up clumsily as the Slytherin swept off up the steps. 

"You all right?" asked Remus, as he gave Peter a hand.

"Yeah. I hate him. As if _he_ hadn't tripped up stairs before," muttered Peter furiously, obviously quite affected by the sneer he'd just gotten. 

"Oh forget it Peter," said Remus cheerfully. "The guy probably was born with a scowl stuck on his face."

"Who ya talkin' 'bout?" asked James perkily, bounding up to them.

"Snape," replied Peter sulkily.

"Oh, but who cares about Snivellus?" Sirius started pulling faces – scowling, frowning, leering, glaring, then finally, shoulders hunched over, he dipped his head down, as if engrossed in a book. 

Remus silently marvelled at how good the impersonations were. Sirius was a rascal, and Merlin help whoever who happened to be the subject of his mimicry or wrath. 

"All I need is a hooked nose and grease. Lots and lots of grease," Sirius told the others as they went through the doubled doors to the right of the Entrance Hall. 

The four long tables that ran down the length of the Great Hall were rapidly filling up with boisterous students. There was a great deal of shouting and laughter as accounts of the summer holidays were exchanged. The ceiling, enchanted to look like the night sky, was littered with stars, which gleamed and sparkled against the dark hue of midnight blue. 

The four of them made their way to the Gryffindor table. Remus had been looking forward to this feast, ever since he had missed that food trolley on the train. He glanced round the Hall, and caught sight of Snape hunched over a book, his curtain of hair veiling his face, oblivious to the pandemonium surrounding him. Remus smiled inwardly, recalling Sirius's impression a few moments earlier. A short while afterwards, he caught sight of Professor McGonagall herding the new first years through the doors and up the Hall. They all looked petrified. Remus could still remember the terror and nervousness he had felt upon his first arrival. His mother had been shocked (but delighted) that Dumbledore had accepted him into Hogwarts. Remus had been excited about going to Hogwarts - everyone in the wizarding world talked about the school - but reluctant as well. He honestly couldn't see how he could keep his lycanthropy a secret. Surely _someone_ would see, or find out one way or another, or guess. And then it would be the fear, disgust and rejection all over again. He had met James, Sirius and Peter that first day and instantly got along with them fabulously. But of course, had told them nothing. He spent his first term being rather quiet and secretive, especially around that time of the month. His friends had asked him where he frequently disappeared off to, and he had managed to get away with little stories and lies until Sirius and James, being so smart, had guessed his secret. They had blown up at him one night, after Remus had come back from the hospital wing. Peter, although rather silent, had been alongside them, nodding every so often in agreement with the other two. Remus remembered all too well how he had thought his world had come crashing down, until he finally realised his friends were mad at him for not telling them, and not trusting them, rather than being disgusted at him for being a werewolf. It had been a revelation, as no one, outside of his parents, had ever treated him like a real person who had all the complexities of human thoughts and emotions. The Healers he had come across, and the professors at Hogwarts, had been kind and caring too, but that was different. There was some difference between adults doing their job, and kids voluntarily sticking up for their friend. Remus hadn't looked back since. He was, of course, still highly conscious of his condition, still nervous about his secret being leaked out to the general public, and still painfully aware of the limitations he would have when he graduated from Hogwarts, but at least he could talk it over openly with his friends now, and sometimes talking alone helped a lot.

As Remus drifted out of his reverie, he found that the Sorting Hat had finished its song and the Sorting had begun. The tiny first-years hurried up nervously to the Hat as Professor McGonagall called out their names. Remus recalled too, how relieved he was when he was Sorted into Gryffindor. He had been terrified the Hat would see the wolf in him, scream out "Werewolf!" to the entire hall and yell at him to get packing and leave. But it didn't. He gazed at the queue thoughtfully now. _I don't recall being this small when I was a first year. _ 

At that moment, Sirius leant in towards him and whispered, voicing his thoughts. "Those first years, they get smaller and smaller each year!" 

A few places down from them, two girls were cooing and clucking, 

"Oh aren't they adorable!"

"So _cute_!"

Sirius rolled his eyes while James gagged. Twittering Tamsin and Gushing Gertrude, James dubbed them. Two girls who were as fond of gossip and frivolous airs as James was passionate about Quidditch, they cooed and clucked over every fluffball or pixie-like creature during their Care of Magical Creatures lessons. Remus ignored the nauseating mother-hen squeals of cuteness and concentrated on squelching the rumble in his stomach. He wished the Sorting would hurry up and be over and done with so he could eat. He was so focused on his hunger that he paid only partial attention to the Sorting. But finally, that was over and Professor Dumbledore's much welcomed words, "let the feast begin!" rang through the Hall and plates and plates of delicious food appeared on the tables. 

There was silence except for the clinking of cutlery for a while, as the students busily tucked into the feast. Remus filled his plate with everything, except for the olives (he hated those). Next to him, Sirius was gnawing hungrily at a chicken leg, and at the top of the table sat Near-Headless Nick, looking wistfully at the food. He was being badgered by a tiny first-year girl, and Remus could guess the gist of the questions she was asking as the ghost proceeded to do his party-trick of flipping his head off his neck, much to the horror of the girl. Tamsin made a face.

"I wish he wouldn't do that," she grumbled. 

"What's the matter?" teased James lazily. "Worried his silver blood and innards would get into your chicken pie?" 

"Urgh!" squealed Gertrude, pushing away her own plate of pie in repulsion. "That is _disgusting_!" 

"Oh stop being so squeamish," said Jean Talbert, a no-nonsense fourth year girl who was a Chaser along with James on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. "And James, will you please stop grossing all of us out here?"

"Well, the more they are grossed out, the less they eat, and the more for me," James replied slickly, earning a derisive look from Jean.

When the last scraps of food were consumed and the final dregs of juice swallowed, Professor Dumbledore went through his start of term announcements, which included the annual warning that the Forbidden Forest was off-limits to any student of the school. _Yeah, yeah. Right, _thought Remus, having a fairly firm impression that Professor Dumbledore was aware that this rule was broken every school year and that the Headmaster reeled it off just for the sake of principle and formality. James was already winking and smirking in his seat, and Remus was sure he was well intending to plan more jaunts into the forest this coming year. He returned James's wink, though now a voice in his head buzzed around annoyingly. _You are a prefect! It's high time you behaved like one. What kind of model behaviour is it gallivanting around the Forbidden Forest at nights? What will Lily say? What will _Dumbledore_ say? _

Remus argued a bit with himself before banishing his conscience to the back of his mind. He will think about it later, on another day, when he wasn't so full or tired or sleepy. As the students got up to leave for their respective common rooms, Remus went to gather up their group of first-years. He and Lily led the way to the Gryffindor Tower, through the corridors and moving staircases, until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. 

"_Frothing butterbeer_!" said Lily to the portrait, her clear voice carrying down the corridor, so all the Gryffindors queuing down along it could hear the password.

The portrait swung open and the group filed in. The common room was cosy and welcoming. Remus went round it, immersing himself in the familiarity of the place. He loved the look of it, the smell, the feel of the comfortable armchairs and the books on the shelf. Then he gazed out of the window at the Hogwarts grounds below, softly lit by the pale moonlight.

"Hey, are you coming?" A hand clapped on his shoulder and he turned round to see Sirius, who was jerking his head towards the stairs that led up to the dormitories. James and Peter were already heading up, stretching and yawning loudly. 

"Sure," he replied. With a warm glow starting to spread from the pit of his stomach up through to his chest, he followed Sirius up the stairs, feeling extremely at home upon returning to Hogwarts and looking forward to another year of fun and work.


	2. The Daily Slog: Homework, Classes, Deten...

**Disclaimer:** The wizarding world in all its entirety belongs to the one and only J.K. Rowling. I am just a hopelessly obsessed Muggle who feeds off her imagination.

**Author's Notes:**  The second in a collection of essays detailing the Marauders in their fifth year, written from Remus's POV. Again, the Peter notes I made in my first instalment apply. While wishing to stick to canon as much as humanly possible, I feel his character needs more depth and individuality than the one JKR has shown us so far.

**A Year in the Life of a Wizarding Werewolf**

**- The Daily Slog: Homework, Classes, Detentions and Quidditch**

It was the start of the third week into the school term, and Remus regretted ever getting himself to believe it would be an enjoyable year of fun and work. _Fun? What fun,_ he thought mockingly to himself as he turned to his fourth essay of the day and began scribbling an answer for Professor Binns. _"The Treaty of Riga in 1462: Describe (quoting appropriate references) how it led to the repression of goblins, and discuss whether or not the treaty was a sensible tactic, using case studies to argue your viewpoint."_

Remus gave a heavy sigh. He didn't exactly detest History of Magic, though Professor Binns hardly ever managed to stir up a smidgen interest for the subject in any of his classes. But this essay, Remus could tell just by looking at the title, was going to be a lengthy one, with lots of research needed if references and case studies were to be quoted. Flexing his hand to ease the writer's cramp he had, he pulled a heavy textbook on goblin history towards him and flipped to a section he had marked out earlier on when he was at the library. Beside him, Peter was chewing his nails and staring at a blank piece of parchment, a picture of concentration on his face, as if willing the essay to be magically written for him. Even James and Sirius seemed to be feeling some of the strain. James's hair was, if possible, even untidier than usual. Remus had long-since noticed James had a habit of fiddling with his hair as he concentrated. 

"How come no one ever warned us about the intensity of fifth year work?" groaned Sirius, stretching himself as he put away his Potions essay and got started on the reading required for Defence Against the Dark Arts. 

Peter whimpered slightly. "At least you are keeping up with the work," he squeaked. "Me, l-look!" He gesticulated rather frantically at a huge pile of books and several rolls of parchment he had yet to work his way through. Remus felt badly for him. Peter looked very much stressed out, and barely two weeks had gone by.

"Here," he said gently, pointing to a few paragraphs from his book. "That's the section you need for the first part of Binns's essay." 

Peter looked relieved, and started reading. Across from him, James finished his essay with a flourish, and got up from the table.

"You finished?" asked Remus enviously.

"Yup," replied James, making his way across the common room and picking up his miniature model of a Quidditch pitch. He settled into an armchair to continue creating miniature models of the various players to go with it. 

"Quidditch training starts on Thursday," he informed the others as he placed a _Vivaliosa _charm on a Chaser, causing it to zoom up and down the pitch with a Quaffle.

"Good," mumbled Remus vaguely, feverishly copying the references from his book for his essay. He flipped over several pages and quickly scanned through a table of treaty dates and their respective declarations. Then, a few moments later, as he jotted more points down regarding goblin repressions, he looked up distractedly at James. "Er, so you still have a full team, right? No try-outs needed?"

James was polishing a figurine. "Yeah." Pause. "So, will you lot be interested in watching the practice, or do you reckon you'd still be drowned in all this?" he gestured towards the table his friends were at, piled with books, parchments, notepads, inkpots and quills.

"Sure, we'll be there!" said Sirius, closing the book he had been reading and going up to join James. Peter moaned, fretfully flicking through Remus's book to and fro. Remus was feeling rather anxious himself. He dearly wanted the essay to be finished _now_. He needed rest, and seeing James and Sirius discussing Quidditch in the comfortable armchairs was rather distracting. If the amount of assignments continued to increase, he would be in serious trouble when the full moon came, when he would be forced to take at least a couple of days off. 

It was midnight before Remus and Peter finished their work, and that was only because James felt sorry for Peter and gave his Potions essay for him to copy so Peter wouldn't have to do an all-nighter. 

Thursday morning started off with double Potions. _Just my luck,_ thought Remus dully, feeling rather groggy from a few consecutive nights of deprived sleep. He spooned himself some steaming hot porridge, hoping that it would revive him a bit and provide him with the concentration he needed for his weakest subject. James and Sirius were chatting animatedly beside him, James excitedly reeling off a long list of Quidditch moves he would be trying out that evening at practice. Peter, on the other hand, looked much worse than how Remus felt. _Like death warmed over (and run down again)._ He wondered how James and Sirius did it. Sure, they complained about the inordinate amount of work to be handed in like the rest of them, but somehow they still always managed to end up with spare time at the end of the day. They were smart, the brightest students in the year. But still. Remus couldn't see himself surviving on only five to six hours of sleep each night all year, and was determined to structure a more efficient homework schedule for himself. 

_No more procrastinating with small talk after dinner before starting on homework. _

_No more small breaks in between assignments. _

_No more mind wanderings and losing my focus when doing homework. _

_And of course, paying rapt attention, and taking detailed notes, in class would help a lot,_ he thought wryly. _It'd save a lot of time having to look up what the professors said in class in the massive volumes of books from the library._

Right, he was going to start now. With double Potions. He pulled a face, but was determined to stick to his newly-devised plan. When breakfast was over, Remus followed Peter, James and Sirius down to the dungeons for Potions with the Slytherins. Snape was standing at the end of the queue that had gathered outside the classroom, buried inside a book as usual.

"Mornin' _Snivelly_," James greeted him snidely. "Hooked nose in your books again? Tell me, how does it smell?"

"Better than himself, I'd bet," said Sirius, smirking. Peter tittered nervously.

Snape glowered at the two of them. Remus hesitated. _Should I do something? Before things get worse?_ He didn't want to seem as if he was berating James and Sirius for taunting Snape, but he didn't want a scene either. He really should be telling James and Sirius to stop it. Snape looked as if he was thinking of a scathing comeback, and Remus, wanting things to further no more, slipped up behind James and touched him lightly on the elbow. Thankfully, James turned and proceeded to ignore Snape, Sirius following suit. Remus prayed, though without much hope, that encounters like this would be few and far between this year. Professor Dumbledore probably thought making him Prefect would allow him to harness the antics of James and Sirius somewhat, but he doubted if it would work. Sirius and James didn't usually stop at something unless they wanted to. Besides, he didn't exactly want to rebuke his friends. After all, they were keeping his lycanthropy a secret, and have always been there for him. 

Professor Sharkhorn strode down the corridor at that point and the class followed him quietly into the classroom. 

"Well, the class has had over two weeks to familiarise themselves with the basic theory and the more straightforward brewing of potions. This, however, will be the end of the easy period." 

The class sighed. Snape, who was at the table behind Remus and Peter snorted softly. "About time," he muttered gruffly under his breath. "Two weeks worth of baby-level potions is enough for anyone." 

He looked up and caught sight of Peter looking at him with distaste. "Of course, Pettigrew, you are so backward, Infant Wizarding Level Potions would be advanced for you." 

Remus gripped Peter's arm to stop him from doing anything regrettable and hope James and Sirius, who were slightly further up, heard nothing. Snape, it occurred to Remus, looked paler than usual, his usually sallow face the colour of chalk, and he appeared to have dark circles under his eyes.

"So," continued Professor Sharkhorn, "today, you will be brewing the Draught of Peace. It is a potion that commonly turns up for the Ordinary Wizarding Levels, but at the same time, it's very tricky and exacting. Here are the instructions," he gave his wand a swish, and a piece of parchment appeared on each table, upon which the instructions were neatly written. "And the you can find the ingredients in the main cupboard," he finished, using his wand to point out a large cupboard that ran along the entire back wall of the classroom. "Divide into pairs, and you have until half past ten."

The class split into twos, Sirius pairing up with James and Remus with Peter. Snape, as usual, wound up on his own. Remus had the notion that this appealed more to the Slytherin. Snape wasn't the type to revel in teamwork. He hurried off to get the ingredients as Peter lit a fire under their cauldron with his wand. For the next hour and a half, they worked fervently. Remus, remembering the resolutions he had made at breakfast time, studied the instructions thoroughly and proceeded to concentrate hard on adding the exact amount of different ingredients at precisely the right moment, with the correct simmering times. 

Towards the end of the lesson, Professor Sharkhorn announced to the class that they should be finished by now, and that their potion, if correctly brewed, should be emitting a light silvery vapour. Remus stared dejectedly at the mixture in the cauldron in front of him. The steam rising from his and Peter's potion was indeed silvery, but it was rather more like a cloud of smoke, than a thin vapour. 

"I wonder where we went wrong," he frowned, studying the parchment on the table. Peter peered over his shoulder, and after a moment, flushed bright red.

"What?" asked Remus, noticing his partner's guilty look.

"I-I added t-too much of the powdered P-pulsatilla," he stuttered. "I'm so s-sorry!"

Remus sighed, as Professor Sharkhorn passed them and gave them a hard gaze. "At least you seem to know what you did wrong," he said, evidently overhearing Peter's apologetic cry. "An 'A' minus maybe, I'll be lenient this time."

"Forget it, Peter," Remus said quietly, as they began to clear away the ingredients. "I should have been more careful to see that everything was done properly too. Don't worry about it."

Sirius and James were grinning at their table, clearing up a perfectly-made potion which had earned them an 'O'. The only other person who had gotten an 'O' was Snape. No one would've have thought it looking at that scowling face though. 

"Anyone would think Sharkhorn had given him a 'D'!" murmured Peter to Remus as they washed their hands in the basins running along the side wall. 

Snape appeared beside Remus at that moment, and Remus could hear him mutter something to the effect of  "stupid bunch of moronic dimwits". If Remus didn't feel this was a direct insult at Peter and himself, he would have found the vindictive muttering rather amusing. He wouldn't be wasting his own energy on grumbling about someone else's low grade in a class. 

"What did you just say?" came a sharp voice on the other side of Snape. 

Remus's heart sank. It was James. Before he could do anything, Snape, pleased to have a chance to return the taunting earlier on, said softly,

"It just appears that _certain_ people are really quite the thick-headed dim-witted Squib," he said, rather maliciously, with a deliberate glance at Peter. 

That was it. James, whose temper rose and subsided at an alarmingly fast rate, had flung Snape across the classroom with a whip of his wand.

"_POTTER_!" hollered Professor Sharkhorn from the top of the classroom. 

They had forgotten that the professor was still in the room. Peter paled. Remus swallowed hard. James opened his mouth. 

"But Professor, he-"

"_Enough!_" said Professor Sharkhorn. "Ten points from Gryffindor and detention, Potter."

"But Professor, Snape, he insulted— "

"One more word from you, it will be a further ten points," said Sharkhorn, cutting him off, a note of finality in his voice. "You should learn to control that temper of yours, Potter." And with that, he strode out of the classroom.

James looked mutinous, hardly trusting himself to speak. "He wouldn't even listen that the scum insulted you," he said hotly to Peter. 

Speaking of Snape, the boy was picking himself up off the floor at the other end of the classroom. He looked at the four Gryffindors defiantly, and gave both James and Peter a satisfied sneer. Remus, not wanting any more action to occur than already had, firmly propelled James and Sirius out the door.

"How come Snape didn't get anything?" howled James furiously. 

"Maybe there kind of is a difference between insulting someone under your breath and hurling them right across the dungeon," suggested Remus lightly.

"_How_ can you take this?" exclaimed Sirius. "People insulting you or your friends. You just stand there and take it? Don't you feel anything?"

"Of course I do," replied Remus quietly. Sirius fell silent at once, remembering how Remus, of course, would have been the recipient of quite a number of rather scathing and bigoted comments throughout his life.

"Please don't fall for Snape's bait," Remus pleaded. "He knew he would get you all riled up, especially after the teasing you gave him before the class. Really, you shouldn't give much thought to what he grumbles about. No one does, not even the other Slytherins."

James glowered, but could think of nothing to argue against Remus's reasoning, so he kept quiet. 

"C'mon, we're going to be late for Transfiguration," said Sirius, pulling James along. 

Although he said nothing more about the incident, James was clearly still extremely annoyed over receiving a detention when Snape got away scot-free. And it showed during the practical lesson in Transfiguration. 

"You are supposed to be turning the rabbit into a lunchbox, Potter, not jabbing it in the eyes and inflating it," said Professor McGonagall disapprovingly, as James's rabbit leapt off his desk and scampered across the classroom in terror, staring rather reproachfully at James from underneath the bookshelf with its blood-shot eyes. "What's the matter with you today? _Please _concentrate! I want that rabbit returned to me in reasonable condition by the end of the lesson."

James's temper was in no way tethered by lunchtime, where Snape had sidled up to him with an expression of malevolent glee, informing him smugly that Professor Sharkhorn would like to see James at six o' clock the following evening for his detention. James stalked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down, his face a thunderous cloud.

"Insufferable berk," he fumed, sloshing stew onto his plate so violently specks of gravy flew everywhere. 

"Hey," spoke up Peter timidly, looking a bit fearful in case James blow up at him. "At least you've got Quidditch this evening, and your detention didn't clash with that."

The thought of Quidditch practice seemed to calm James down a bit. By the end of lunchtime, he had regained most of his usual jauntiness. The Gryffindors spent the afternoon in Professor Sprout's greenhouses with the Hufflepuffs potting Alihotsy plants, whose leaves would cause hysteria when ingested. Alihotsy plants themselves weren't difficult to take care of. They needed just the regular sunshine, water and dragon dung compost. The finicky part was the initial soil preparation. One had to mix the exact fractions of different types of soil together, in addition to providing the correct ratio of nutrient supplements.

"How about shoving some of those Alihotsy leaves down his throat?" suggested Sirius. "Do him good to get out of that permanent funk he is in.

Remus could only guess who "he" meant. "A hysterical Snivellus laughing heartily along the corridor? _Scary_. I think I'll take the dour, sour-puss instead. Better the devil you know, you know." 

Following dinner, the four went up to the common room and rushed through as much homework as they possibly could before heading out to the Quidditch pitch at seven. Sirius, Remus and Peter had all firmly decided to watch James's practice, in order to lift his spirits more than anything else. Besides, it was as good an excuse as any to get out of doing homework for a couple of hours.

As his three friends sat themselves in the stands, James went and joined the rest of the team. It was a balmy evening. An occasional light breeze wafted across the grounds, causing the rustling of some leaves as it filtered through the trees situated at the edge of the lawn, along the outskirts of the Forbidden  Forest.

Down at the pitch, the Gryffindor team was listening intently to their Captain speaking, a tall, well-built boy, Derek Perry, who was in his final year. Remus couldn't hear what was being said from where he was sitting, but gauged a fair idea that it was a pep talk of sorts when a roar of enthusiastic approval greeted the end of his speech a few minutes later.

A whistle sounded, the seven players soared into the air and began their first training session of the season. Perry got them warming up with some basic flying skills and straightforward Quaffle handling first. He was a stickler for basics, upon which one could then build the more advanced skills. This clearly showed in the matches, more often than not providing them with an advantage over the other teams. The Gryffindors arguably had some of the smoothest team machinations and the fastest flyers of the four houses. 

In the stands, Remus was sandwiched between Sirius and Peter. Watching the team go through some drills, he could see James really was a superb flyer. Not that he didn't know that already of course, but it was still a treat to watch each time. His reflexes were excellent, and he had such great skill handling his broom, he could move through the air at tremendous speed with an ease none of the others could achieve.

Refreshed from their summer break, the team was raring to go. As it split up so the players could play a game amongst themselves, Remus got a steady stream of commentary coming from his right by Sirius.

"C'mon James! Faster! _Look out!_" he shouted, seeing a Bludger hurling itself towards his friend. "And he scores!" he roared.

"Mind that Bludger, Jean. Oh _careful_! Oh well hit, Derek!" he cried, as Perry gave the Bludger a resounding whack, sending it more than halfway down the pitch.

"Great score, Karla! Class! What a shot! That one was from halfway up the pitch!"

"James scores again! Fantastic! And ooooh, _nice_ dive Caitlyn. _Mad _Wronski Feint. Where did you learn that? _Wicked_!"

Sirius had gotten up off his seat and was standing on the bench, hands cupped to his mouth, hollering up at the players. On Remus's other side, Peter was squeaking exicitedly, his focus very much on James alone. He too, was on his feet, bouncing up and down rather precariously on the bench. 

"Ooooh! Ahhhh! Ohhhh!"

"Oh! That was fabulous James!"

"A score! A score! He scores again! Go James, go James."

"Oh _go on_ James! Oh _YEEEESSSSSSS_!"

"Ooooooh! Ahhhhh! Ohhhhhh!"

"Peter," said Sirius curtly, taking his eyes off the action in the air for a brief second. "You do realise there are six other players up there too, right?"

Peter flushed, but at that point, James scored yet another goal, this time, from three-quarters of the way down the pitch. Peter emitted a series of excited squeaks again, while Sirius put his fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly.

"That was a corker, mate!"

Remus sat back and enjoyed the practice, letting the two on either side of him do the majority of work with the cheering, at times, having to cover his ears from Sirius's piercing whistles. He did, however, chime in with his chant of _"Die Slytherin die"_ whenever one of the team did something spectacular.

It was a great practice, with James, Jean and Karla managing to score several very impressive goals each, and Robert Jenkins, the Keeper, putting in a stellar effort to defend all the penalty point-type shots that the rest of the team members whirled at him after the game at the end of the practice. Caitlyn Orr, the Seeker, caught the Snitch four times, while the Beaters, Padraig O'Connor and Derek, did their job so well, the Bludgers barely got a chance to get near the rest of the team.

When the hour was up, James, his breaths coming short and fast, flew down to where his friends were, his eyes shining, exhilarated. The Quidditch obviously had done him a world of good. 

Remus was glad when Friday came and the weekend was in sight. Having no classes for two full days haven't ever been so appealing. Following dinner that evening, he settled in the common room, resolving to get all his homework done by the following evening so he would at least get a full day off on Sunday before the week started all over again. 

James had gone off for his detention with Professor Sharkhorn. When he returned just before nine o'clock, his mood was a mixture of anger, humiliation, satisfaction (strangely enough) and there was an air of wanting to spill some beans. 

"So, what'd Sharkhorn want you to do?" asked Peter. "Lines?"

James gave a sardonic laugh. "I wish! The bloody bastard made me clean the toilets and that broom cupboard down in the dungeons by the Slytherin common room."

"Did anyone spot you?" Sirius asked, giving him a horrified look.

"You bet," answered James bleakly, sinking into an armchair at the corner of the room. "I never realised just how many students wander in and out of their common rooms at this time of the night. Not to mention the number of times the same ones do it." 

"Oh," said Sirius, clearly not knowing what to say in reply to that, so gave him a look that said _tough luck, mate._

"So," piped up Peter hesitantly, "did they, like, _say_ anything to you?"

"Did they say anything?" repeated James bitterly. "Of course they did. They probably went in and out of that portrait hole on purpose, just to get a chance to have a go at me."

"I'm sure they didn't," interjected Remus hurriedly. "People go in and out of the common rooms all the time." He didn't sound very convinced himself though.

"I would have gladly done ten feet of lines than scrub in front of the Slytherins. And then there was Peeves!" 

"What about him?"

"He was the reason why I took so long to get back. As if cleaning and scrubbing wasn't bad enough without his chants and taunts, loud enough for the Slytherins to hear every word." Remus and Peter winced, while Sirius paled. "Anyway," continued James. "He decided it would be fun flooding the corridor with buckets of water, so I had to spend ages mopping that up as well."

"Snape was hanging around enjoying the spectacle too," he added miserably, a moment later, sitting up in the chair.

"Slimeball!" cried Sirius hotly, to which James sighed resignedly.

"Y-you didn't do anything, did you?" asked Remus anxiously. "I mean, you know he would hang around just to goad you, right?"

"I didn't hex him or change him into a toad, if that's what you mean. I even kept my temper, like a good little boy," said James deprecatingly.

"That, okay then." Remus looked relieved. "Detention over, and we can forget all about Snape."

"Oh, I did hear stuff about him," said James tantalisingly.

"What?" asked the other three at once.

"Baby Snivellus has been having bad tempers and sleepless nights lately," said James softly. "I know he isn't all that popular even in his own house, but even taking that into account, from what I could pick up, his temper has been worse than usual, if it is possible," he added cuttingly. "He also hasn't been sleeping all that well. Gets up at night and either sits on his bed gazing into space, or sneaks down to the common room and does goodness knows what."

"Sniwelly's hawing nwightmares?" cawed Sirius in a baby voice. "Pwoor boy. Is he afwaid of monsters?"

"There's your reason why he wasn't Sorted into Gryffindor," said James to the other three.

"Maybe his nightmares involve you Scourgifying him in public, and then running off to win the Quidditch Cup and becoming Head Boy in front of everyone," grinned Remus.

"Ooooh, that'd be nice!" exclaimed James, rubbing his hands together hungrily.

"Don't be giving him ideas, Moony," scolded Sirius, feigning disapproval.

"Well, aside from ole Snivelly, I also heard a bit about the Dark Lord that is gaining power everywhere," James said, lowering his voice so others in the common room wouldn't hear him. "You know, the one who we've been hearing snatches of every now and then for the past three, four years?"

"You did?" asked Peter, looking rather scared. "What did you hear?"

"Nothing too concrete," replied James, serious now. "Only that he is steadily gaining power, and is immortal. He is gathering followers from all over, forming an army."

"Immortal?" squeaked Peter. "What do you mean by immortal? He can't be killed?"

"Shhhh!" whispered Remus sternly, elbowing him in the ribs.

"Yes, Peter," said James heavily. "Immortal would generally imply he cannot be killed. I don't know how he did it. I caught a wisp of something like he took all these potions, and infused his blood with different things," he trailed off. "I suppose more discussion goes on behind that portrait door. I think I also caught his name. Something beginning with 'v'. V-v-v-_voldemort_, I think. But I can't be too sure. The boy who said it got shushed by everyone around him at once. I didn't get a chance to catch it properly."

"B-b-but," stammered Peter, looking terrified now. "The Daily Prophet, it has said nothing about this. They just warned that there were more dark activities going on, but for us not to worry. It couldn't be _that_ bad now, could it? You get the odd fight and murder in the Muggle world too, I'm sure."

"Do you really think the Ministry of Magic is going to announce in the Daily Prophet that a mysterious Dark Lord called Voldemort, who can't be killed, is running rampant around Europe?" snorted Sirius. "People would panic and start pointing fingers. And that's the last thing the Ministry wants. It's politics, shoving everything under the carpet, sticking their heads in Floo powder," Sirius finished, looking disgusted. 

"Apparently this Dark Lord is a pure-blood fanatic too," added James. "I heard this cocky Slytherin girl say in her bloody superior voice that Mudbloods and half-bloods would be the first to go."

"Suits the whole Black family perfect then," remarked Sirius acrimoniously. 

"Oh come on," said Remus cagily, trying to lighten the conversation a bit. "Andromeda is lovely, you say so yourself. And _you_ aren't like that. That's the main thing."

"I sure am glad I am not like the rest of my cracked-headed family with their pure-blood mania," declared Sirius in a fierce whisper. "The only place for someone like this Voldemort is Azkaban, since he can't be killed, if what you heard was right, James. Keep him there with those Dementors, drive him mental. If he gets the Kiss, even better. Leave him an empty shell of his former self."

"Woah, hold your hippogriffs," said James, jumping up from his armchair and patting Sirius on the back. "We get you. The guy would probably be caught if he starts showing himself more prominently anyway," he added soothingly. "Haven't you ever heard of that Muggle sadist Adolf Hitler?"

"If indeed this Voldemort gets sent to Azkaban, and if he gets the Kiss, he'd really be facing a horrendous predicament," mused Remus quietly. "Really, he'd be better off being mortal, and bow out the easier way by dying."

There was a silence. Peter scuffed his toe on the golden threads lining the edge of a scarlet rug spread across the floor. There wasn't anything anyone could think of to say, and Remus was relieved when Karla Dobbyn and her friend Kerrie Quinn called them over a few moments later to join them in a game of Gobstones.

They didn't say anything more about what James had overhead that night, though Remus was sure, like himself, the news about the Dark Lord gathering power was playing on the minds of all four of them.


	3. If thrice you don't succeed, try try yet...

**Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling owns all but the fingers that typed this up. If I owned Harry Potter, I would know what happens in Book Seven, and important things such as _what is behind that veil_? Unfortunately I don't, so I'll just have to wait like the rest of them.

**Author's Notes:**  The third in a collection of essays detailing the Marauders in their fifth year, written from Remus's POV. Same Peter notes as before. Enjoy. I hope.

**A Year in the Life of a Wizarding Werewolf**

**- If thrice you don't succeed, try try yet again**

The weather turned cool, then cold and frosty, as the days churned by. Very soon, December was lurking round the corner, announcing its forthcoming sojourn with sleet, snow and chilly gusts of wind. There was a week to go before that dreaded time of the month. As the years went by, Remus had come to terms, with a reluctant acceptance, about his transformations. He still disliked them intensely, but at least he had stopped wallowing in the anger and self-pity that had clouded him during the earlier years. Homework-wise, he was relieved that the reformed plan he had set out for himself that third week of term was paying off. He actually enjoyed some free time now on most evenings, where he could be found reading a novel by the fire-side, playing wizard chess with James, or going for a walk round the school grounds. Some evenings, when the wind wasn't too strong or nippy, he would go along with Sirius and Peter to the Gryffindor Quidditch practices. 

The team was doing extremely well this year. Subsequent practices following that first one Remus, Sirius and Peter had attended had been just as good, if not better. There was the occasional off day, of course, but those were few and very far between. In their last match against Ravenclaw, they had steam-rolled past the blue-clad team, with James and Karla scoring three goals each before Caitlyn Orr streaked across the pitch to catch the Snitch from right under the Ravenclaw Keeper's nose.

Remus turned back to the last of his homework, a star chart for Astronomy. Across from him, James, Sirius and Peter were huddled over several books, occasionally jotting down some notes on a piece of parchment.

"What are you guys up to?" he asked finally, after observing a hushed, rather earnest, exchange between Sirius and James.

"Why, nothing," replied Sirius at once, looking at Remus innocently.

"We were just going through some Transfiguration homework," continued James.

"Might get us some bonus points from McGonagall in the next class, you see," finished Peter.

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Nice try," he said sweetly. "The acting's improved somewhat." The three shifted uneasily. "But still, I am not buying it. You lot aren't going through all that Animagus business again, are you?"

Three guilty faces confirmed that he indeed, had guessed right.

"Busted, Moony," said James, with an expression of mock regret.

Remus wanted to, out of habit, rebuke them. The idea of becoming Animagi had first occurred to them towards the end of their second year, when the four of them had seen Professor McGonagall transform into a ginger cat, one with distinctive markings round the eyes, and then back again. They had been researching on Animagi ever since. As a werewolf, Remus would only be drawn towards attacking humans, not animals. His friends figured that if they could all become Animagi, they could have a monthly romp round the school grounds. However, several mishaps have occurred throughout their third and fourth year, and not wanting his friends to be caught out with one too many trips to Madam Pomfrey, and more importantly, not wanting them to do some irreversible damage to themselves, Remus had firmly requested they discontinued the idea.

But just as he opened his mouth, his conscience faded slightly, and something else took over. Excitement. Eagerness. He knew what this meant. If it worked, the days of being shut up in the Shrieking Shack would be over. He would actually have the company of his best friends on the nights he considered his most horrific. 

He hesitated. "So, you guys really want to do this?" he asked cautiously.

They nodded.

"Really _really_? Absolutely sure?" he went on, not daring to let a glimmer of hope slip into his voice. 

The heads nodded again, more vigorously this time.

A smile spread across his face, and his friends looking relieved, grinned back at him.

"So what stage are you at? What do you need to do?" he asked, leaning across the table to catch a glimpse of their notes.

"We've got just about everything," replied James, showing him a sheaf of parchments, detailing the materials required for the initial transformation. If this turned out to be successful, they would be able to transform into animals and back again at will. The initial process, however, was extremely complex, requiring not only a magical ability usually found in wizards much more experienced than OWL-level teens, but also a complicated potion involving numerous ingredients of a dubious nature, and an incantation in some form of ancient Greek, now virtually extinct. It had taken the end part of their second year and most of their third year to locate the data on the initiation process, and the first half of the fourth year to decipher the incantation and gather the correct pronunciation of the words. The ingredients for the potion were not easily obtained either. Remus had been extremely touched at the lengths his friends went to, to try and make his transformation nights more pleasant, and the time it took, especially for James and Sirius, who were not known for their patience. They had always told him airily that this was for their own sake, that being able to transform into animals at will would be a cool thing to do, and that it would provide them with even more adventures and fun while at school. But Remus knew that the main reason was because of him, and for that, he was eternally grateful.

"So, you got those black pin-headed beetle claws?" he asked, pointing to one of the ingredients listed for the potion. It had been something they had trouble getting a hold of before.

"Yup," said Sirius, pulling out a packet of suspicious-looking black scraps from underneath some parchment. "I took a quick poke round Knockturn Alley in August when I was in Diagon Alley to get stuff for school. These are left overs though. We've already made the potion."

"Last night," said James, answering Remus's question even before he posed it.

"So when are you— " he began.

"We were thinking of trying it out tonight," whispered Peter, looking half-scared, half-excited. "Down at that secret passageway behind the mirror on the fourth floor. You know, the one where it opens out into a wide space partway through?"

That night, when the last of the students trickled out of the Gryffindor common room, James slipped up to the dormitory to get his Invisibility Cloak. He tucked it in front of his robes, and the four of them set off out the portrait hole.

"Why aren't you lot in bed?" asked the Fat Lady as she let them out. She was brushing her hair, getting ready to catch her forty winks herself. She then gave them a hard look. "You aren't supposed to be out and about after nine you know."

"Er, yeah," said Remus, thinking fast. "You see, Sirius here wasn't feeling too well. Throwing up and having the shakes and all."

Sirius tried looking as sick as he could, clutching one hand to his stomach and moaning softly.

"We just want to get him to the hospital wing," added in James earnestly, while making his way hastily down the corridor.

The Fat Lady gave Sirius a reproving look as they hurried up after James.

"You shouldn't be stuffing yourselves with all those nasty flavoured beans, I tell you," she called after them. "Earwax! No wonder you feel ill."

The four rounded a corner and James flung the Invisibility Cloak over them all. They then headed, rather laboriously, towards the mirror located on the fourth floor. 

"Ouch! Stop stepping on my toes," yelped Peter.

"Shhh!"

"Will you stop elbowing me in the stomach?"

"Hey, walk a bit faster will ya, Moony. I keep tripping over you!"

They finally reached the mirror. James tapped it at the side with his wand, muttering, "_Apertio_!" The mirror slid to one side, and with a sigh of relief, the four stepped in and pulled off the cloak. 

A quarter of an hour later, they reached an open space, hollowed out in the middle of the passageway and quickly laid out their things.

"Potion?"

"Check."

"Incantation?"

"Check."

"Cauldron?"

"Check."  
"Wood?"

"Check."

James pointed to a small cauldron, a ladle and a pile of wood that he had left there earlier during the day.

"Okay then," said Sirius, clapping his hands together. "Let's heat up the potion first, shall we? _Ignito_!"

His wand ignited and he held it out to the pile of wood, setting the cauldron upon it. The wood caught fire and soon, blue-red flames were licking up the sides of the cauldron.

"Good. Ladle?"

Remus passed it over to him.

"Potion?"

"Here," said James, handing him the flask where they had stored it the day before.

Sirius tipped the contents of the flask into the cauldron and began to stir it with the ladle.

"We are supposed to drink this just after it comes to a simmer," he said, "but before it goes to a boil."

He looked intently at the liquid as James pulled out the piece of parchment with the incantation.

Remus observed his friends for a while, and then asked. "Which one of you is going try it first?"

The three of them exchanged looks.

"I will," said Sirius finally, "since James and Peter went the other times we did this."

"So, you are ready to concentrate then?"

Sirius nodded, shaking himself as if to get rid of any irrelevant thoughts and to loosen himself up to meditate.

Perhaps the trickiest part of the whole process was the skill that was required of the wizard himself. You had to be able to block out all external stimuli and focus within, to be able to sense what animal you would most relate to. It was dreadfully difficult to concentrate solely on your inner self without a trace of bias. Your thoughts, as Remus had often been told, inevitably turn to questioning what type of animal you would become instead, and then preconceived notions of cats, dogs or horses would materialise and drown out the whole meditative trance.

"One is supposed to know what one will turn into, and not be guessing," Professor McGonagall had said, when James had asked her about it rather innocuously during their Animagus lesson a couple of years ago. "Like with wands, the form of animal chooses the wizard, not the other way round."

"How are you supposed to just know?" James had vented frustratedly afterwards. "I feel like I am a bit of everything. Which quality of yourself are you supposed to focus on anyway? I can't very well have a dog's head, a dragon's tail and wings of an owl now, can I?"

Still, that hadn't deterred them. The potion was now at simmering point. Sirius gave it one more stir, ladled a spoonful out, then took a deep breath and drank it in one gulp. 

"Hot!" he gasped, panting slightly. Remus chuckled softly as James, Peter and himself began the incantation set in ancient tongues. 

After they were finished, they turned to Sirius, staring at him intently, as he closed his eyes and tried to focus. There were several long minutes of dead silence whereby the air was so taut with anticipation and suspense that Remus was sure someone could have snapped it like a brittle twig.

Then the features of Sirius's face twisted. As Remus, James and Peter gazed, entranced, they saw his hands morph into big bear-like paws, covered in black fur, and a long tail appear from behind him, like a feathery whip. Then his face, apart from the vicinity around his mouth, which remained quite human-like, had turned into….

"A monkey?" asked Remus tentatively, peering into Sirius's transformed face.

"But look at those huge paws," said James, pointing at where Sirius's hands previously were. "And that tail."

"What _are_ you?" asked Peter nervously, studying his friend with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but could only manage a high-pitched screech of sorts. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"I don't know," he squeaked.

"How do we reverse it?" squawked Peter, his voice even higher than Sirius's. "Can _you_ reverse it?"

"I can't!" gibbered Sirius, a bit frantic now. "I don't know how to!"

"I thought you just had to think hard about being human again," said Remus.

"Yeah, but I think I'm stuck, since the process didn't go as planned."

"Er, okay," said James, gingerly, trying to take control of the situation. "I think we'd better get back before anyone notices we are gone. Can you walk?" he asked, turning to Sirius.

Sirius could, as his legs hadn't quite transformed yet. They cleaned up everything rapidly, left the cauldron and ladle behind and flew up the secret passageway again. As they hurried towards their portrait hole, James pulled the Invisibility Cloak off them and tossed it to Sirius.

"Here, take that. At least you won't rouse the Fat Lady's suspicions that way."

"She thinks you're in the hospital wing anyway," added Remus.

Sirius flung it over himself and the four walked up to the portrait. 

"_Chudley Cannons,_" said Peter quickly.

"About time too," grumbled the Fat Lady, swinging open for them. "How long does it take for you to escort a friend to Madam Pomfrey? I need my sleep you know."

"Sorry," apologised Remus as he hauled himself through the portrait hole. "We just wanted to make sure he was okay."

Inside the common room, all three of them turned to Sirius, who was slowly slipping off the Invisibility Cloak.  

"What happened?" asked Remus, feeling his panic rise now the shock was sinking in.

Sirius shrugged. Trying to lower his squeaky voice as much as possible, he said, "I was focusing real hard, and actually could feel it starting to work."

"And?" prodded James.

"But then my mind slipped a bit and somehow I was thinking of monkeys."

Remus sighed disappointedly, but James was growing excited now.

"You mean you felt it working?" he asked, his words tumbling over each other in his enthusiasm. "You really did?"

  
Sirius nodded.

"Oh wow!" he walked around Sirius, gazing at the black paws and the furry tail. "Oh wow!" he repeated. "Maybe, ole pal, you'd have been some sort of dog if that monkey thought hadn't entered your brain."

Remus remained silent. 

"But what is he going to do now?" wailed Peter, wringing his hands nervously. "What are _we_ going to do?"

"Just have to tell Madam Pomfrey, I guess," replied James vaguely, now peering into Sirius's monkey visage. "That is _great_!"

Sirius snorted. "For you yeah. It's not you who's stuck."

"Well," Remus spoke up finally, in a matter-of-fact voice. "We are just going to have to say Sirius was bugging the hell out of us, so we hexed him out of a moment's annoyance."

"But we've used that excuse already," reminded Peter.

"Then we're just going to have to say I wasn't careful when I was practicing my Transfiguration, and the spell hit him instead."

He turned to Sirius. "Come one then, you fluffy chimaera, we'll go to her in the morning." And with that, he propelled the other three up the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

Remus spent part of the night rehearsing what he hoped would be a believable excuse for Madam Pomfrey regarding Sirius's accident. Then, before breakfast, the two of them set off for the hospital wing. The Fat Lady was too sleepy to notice them, merely swinging open in a daze before going back to sleep as they passed through. 

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips most disapprovingly when she saw Sirius.

"Really!" she scolded, settling Sirius down on a bed. "What _have_ you been doing?"

"It was my fault, miss," Remus stepped in hastily. "I was practicing for my Transfiguration practical early this morning with Sirius when my wand slipped from my hand. So the spell hit him instead."

He crossed his fingers tightly under his robes, hoping his story sounded genuine enough. "Can you fix him up?" he asked anxiously.

"Yes, yes, of course," clucked Madam Pomfrey in a business-like way. She studied Sirius for a few moments. 

"Really, what has Minerva been teaching you to transfigure?"

Remus felt he had to be honest this time. "Rats mostly," he said, rubbing his forehead absently, a habit of his when he got flustered. "And rabbits."

"Hmmm," said Madam Pomfrey, her eyes darting back and forth between him and Sirius.

"But, er, but I lost concentration when the wand slipped from my hand," Remus explained quickly, sensing what Madam Pomfrey must surely be thinking.

"Hmm," she repeated, a little less sceptical, though all the same, Remus had a feeling she was still not entirely convinced. "Okay, I'll fix Sirius up here. You run along to breakfast."

With a huge sigh of relief, Remus made his way out of the room, giving Sirius a final wave of good-bye. He hurried along the corridors into the Great Hall. As he sat down at the Gryffindor table, James and Peter immediately swooped down on him, showering him with questions.

"Will he be alright?"

"Pomfrey can fix him back to normal right?"

"Did she suspect anything?"

"What did she say anyway?"

Remus loaded some bacon and sausages onto his plate and reassured them Sirius would be fine.

"She said she would be able to fix him up. And no, she didn't guess," he added, off their questioning looks. "Well, not the real reason anyway. I don't think she really bought into the whole homework mishap thing, even though I tried to make it sound as genuine as I could." He slid an egg onto his plate. "But, I don't think she guessed about the Animagus stuff."

After dinner that day, the three of them went to see Sirius. He looked slightly more presentable than when Remus had left him that morning. He still had his monkey face, but some of the fur on his hands had faded, and the tail had shrunk to half its size.

"Pomfrey said it will be another couple of days before it all goes away," Sirius informed them, the squeakiness in his voice now thankfully gone. "And I have to take this gawd-awful potion." He waved his hand towards a bottle sitting on his bedside table. 

James picked it up and took a whiff of its contents.

"Blegh!" he exclaimed, choking and pulling a face. "It smells worse than Dungbombs."

"Tastes as bad as it smells too," said Sirius, gagging.

"At least Pomfrey can fix you up," said Peter, relieved and looking actually quite optimistic.

James changed the subject. "So, you reckon it nearly worked then?"

Sirius nodded. "It probably _would_ have worked if I hadn't started thinking about those blasted monkeys," he grumbled. "Sorry about that."

James brushed away the apology. "How does it feel?" He asked elatedly. "Were you really able to feel what animal you might become?"

Sirius pondered hard for a moment. "Umm, it's hard to tell. It was as if this personality of mine just, like, took over," he said thoughtfully. "Like it kinda engulfs you for a bit. And it's not as if you pick and choose which personality trait either," he continued, looking at James. "It just _comes_. Like if you relaxed enough and focused on yourself hard enough, it would overwhelm you."

The other three stared at him.

"H-how do you do it though?" asked Peter, looking as if this would all be way beyond him.

"I guess you have to know yourself well enough to let go. And when it starts to overtake you, just let it. My problem was I froze a bit, jolted, because I wasn't expecting it, so the concentrating lapsed and hence, monkey."

"But now you know you may well be some sort of a dog, it'd be easier right?" pressed James. "Like, you probably could think 'dog' to help it along even."

"Maybe," agreed Sirius.

"We are going to have to try it again!" said James excitedly.

"No." A firm voice came from behind him.

Sirius, James and Peter turned to find Remus, looking rather pale, frowning heavily at them.

"Remus— " began Sirius.

"No," repeated Remus stubbornly. "I don't want you to go through all this just because of that one night for me. Someone's probably going to get hurt if we go on like this. What if Pomfrey couldn't fix you up?" he demanded, turning to Sirius. "What if it was irreversible?"

He swallowed hard, trying to control the bubbling wave of hysteria that had been welling up within him all day. It took a lot of strength for him to say no. After all, he had been looking forward to this as much as the rest of them. Looking forward to the possibility of freedom on the nights of his transformations, nights of gallivanting round the Forbidden Forest with his friends, instead of being encaged, left to deal with his anger and loss of mind alone, taking out the temper of the savage beast on the old furniture that lay about the Shrieking Shack and on himself.

"But Moony," said Sirius gently, "this isn't irreversible. What are you fretting about?"

"B-besides, we t-told you many t-times we want to d-do it for ourselves," stammered Peter, looking warily at Remus, but determined all the same.

"You don't understand," growled Remus, desperately trying to control the guilt he felt inside him while attempting to get his point across. "Please stop lying. I know precisely why you are doing it. I am not worth all this trouble!" he hissed in a furious whisper.

"Of course not," said James cheerfully, undaunted.

"You are worth much more," finished Sirius.

There was a brief moment's silence as his friends looked steadily at him. Then, trying to stifle a cry, Remus turned on his heel and flew out of the room.

He wished they would understand. He wished that they would just stop giving him that excuse of wanting to do it for themselves, and take a proper look at what was going on. In fact, Remus was quite livid at them for constantly brushing aside the real reason behind all this so nonchalantly. He was damned sure that thought of becoming Animagi wouldn't have ever crossed their minds if he, Remus J Lupin, hadn't been a werewolf. They were doing it for him, he knew that. They knew how miserable he was on the night of the full moon. They have often seen the gashes he had inflicted upon himself as he bit himself in anger and frustration from being locked up. He wished he hadn't been so open now, telling them how awful it is. He should have been able to cope with it on his own, to take what life has dealt him with more maturity and resilience. _And to think you are a Gryffiindor,_ he thought to himself in disgust. _You don't even have the guts to fill a teaspoon!_ And now all this Animagus craze was his fault. If only he hadn't whined like a baby about the pains of being a werewolf. Sirius had been lucky. If something worse and irreparable were to happen, he would never be able to forgive himself.

Remus stumbled blindly down the corridor to the Gryffindor common room. 

"_Chudley Cannons_," he mumbled inaudibly. The Fat Lady gazed down at him before huffily swinging open and letting him in.

He settled down at a table in the corner of the room and immersed himself in his homework. He was nearly finished his second assignment, some complicated simultaneous Prophelgebra equations for Professor Vector in Arithmancy, when James and Peter appeared through the portrait hole.

"Moony," began James uncertainly, as he stopped in front of Remus. "Y-you okay?"

Remus, still feeling rather strained with a mixture of guilt, anger and pride, remained silent.

"W-we just w-want to h-help, you know," said Peter in a trembling voice.

Remus swallowed hard, "I know," he said softly, "But— "

"But what?" hissed James, challenging Remus to give him an answer, "but nothing!"

"Not nothing," Remus shot back. Then seeing several inquisitive heads turn in their direction, lowered his voice down to a whisper. "Not nothing. Don't you understand I don't want to get you into trouble?"

"We're already _in_ trouble. All the time."

"_Real_ trouble," Remus cut in coolly. "What if Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix Sirius?" What if you got found out? I am not sure what the punishment for being an illegal Animagus is, but it wouldn't be just writing lines! Nor cleaning up Slytherin corridors for that matter," he added, glaring at James. "What if you couldn't change back? Do you think I want that to happen to you? Do you think I could live with it?"

"We are willing to take the risk," stated James mulishly.

Remus gave a scornful snort. "It's a ridiculous risk! Why?"

"Because we meant what Sirius said up in the hospital wing about being worth it," replied James, very serious now. "Besides, if any of us were in your place, wouldn't you be trying to become an Animagus so you could be with us on nights of the full moon too?"

Remus didn't have an answer to that.

"Thank you," said James in response to the silence.

"We just have to try again, that's all," he continued briskly. "We've used up the last of that Siberian Devil's Claw and the Pacific cuttlefish tentacles for the potion."

"We don't have enough of the black pin-headed beetle claws left over either," added Peter. 

"We'll find a way to get some more," said James. "I think I can nick some more asphodel from the potions cupboard during class. We are running low on that too."

Remus looked on quietly as the two went through their notes. He was still not comfortable with the decision to carry on with the experimenting, but at the same time, he couldn't deny the feeling of happiness and eagerness that was surging through him once more, what this might eventually mean. He felt a glow of warmth starting to form at the pit of his stomach, that his friends were truly eager to do this for _him_.

At about half-eight, James put down his quill, after finishing his translation for Ancient Runes.

"Does anyone fancy a brisk walk for some fresh air?" he asked, yawning loudly and stretching himself languidly in his chair.

Peter glanced out the window. "It looks a bit chilly outside," he commented, shuddering and his eyes wandered over to the bright flames crackling merrily in the fireplace. There was no question as to where he preferred to remain.

"But I want some fresh air," wheedled James, standing up, looking very restless.

"Stick you head out the window then," offered Remus, who had just finished his work for the night and was tidying up the rolls of parchment and stacks of books on the table.

"Oh come on, you two! You need some of it yourselves by the looks of you," James said, making his way across the common room and towards the portrait hole.

Grumbling under their breaths, the other two put on their coats they had hung up by the doorway earlier on in the day and tromped out of the common room after him.

Once outside, Remus had to grudgingly admit that James had been right. The crisp chill of the air was extremely refreshing after the hours spent with his nose in the books in the warm common room.

The three of them took a walk down to the Quidditch pitch (which was now empty) and along the border of the school lawns. James was adamant about trying the Animagus experiment again soon, and wouldn't shut up talking about it throughout their whole walk. By the time they made their way back to the castle, he had managed to stir back up a considerable amount of interest and enthusiasm from the other two, ridding Peter of his doubts and Remus of his reluctance. 

As they made their way to Gryffindor Tower, James paused along a corridor, deep in thought. Remus figured he was thinking hard about the Animagus procedure, and probably wondering where they may get a hold of the potion ingredients they were missing. He was about to give James a nudge along when he heard a familiar, and very unwelcome, voice.

"Students wandering around after nine o'clock, I hear?"

"_Filch_!" whispered Remus.

"Where, my sweet? Where did you spot them?"

"And Mrs. Norris," gulped Peter, fearfully.

They gave James a shove, jostling him out of his thoughts. 

"Wha— " he mumbled.

"It's Filch," hissed Remus urgently.

James snapped out of his reverie immediately. As Remus and Peter started hastening their paces up towards Gryffindor Tower, James scanned his eyes around and spotted a door just beside him along the corridor. 

"Here!" he called out softly at the others, pulling the door open. 

They flew in through the door and James turned the lock. Breathing heavily, they heard the caretaker talking to his cat right outside the door and held their breath. Filch and Mrs. Norris skulked along the corridor for what seemed like an eternity before those in the room heard Filch say grouchily,

"Little dirty brats. They must have scurried away, off to leave stink pellets and Dungbombs along the corridors again. Come, my sweet."

Remus gave them a few minutes before peeking out the door to check if the coast was clear.

"Hey, you guys, look!" James cried out, looking around the room. "Do you _see_ what it _in_ here?"

Remus poked his head back into the room. "What?"

But he didn't have to wait for James's answer.  Two walls of the room were bookshelves lined with volumes upon volumes on Transfiguration and Animagi. The other two were shelves housing all the ingredients they would ever need for the potion, while lying on a table in the middle of the room, was a roll of parchment. James picked it up, his hands trembling with excitement and it was the incantation, complete with pronunciation instructions. Remus and Peter looked over his shoulder. 

"Oh," said Peter, pointing to a word halfway down the page. "I think we got the inflection of that word slightly wrong," 

"And that too," said James, indicating another one further down. He looked round the room. "This is _brilliant_!"

"I wonder why we haven't noticed it before," Remus voiced out loud. "A room solely housing information on Animagi in Hogwarts? Strange, don't you think?"

"Who cares?" said James, brushing off Remus's comment and dashing over to the potions cabinet.

"It just seems weird, that's all," said Remus, trying to shrug off the funny feeling he had.

"This is Hogwarts," said James, now emptying the shelves with potion ingredients. "What could be here that could possibly be worthwhile being afraid of?"

He rummaged through more of the shelves. "Look at this! The Devil's Claw and cuttlefish tentacles." He opened the jar and took a quick sniff. 

"Good quality too. I could only manage some mediocre stuff the last time, since they normally cost a unicorn's horn. And look, here are some black pin-headed beetle claws too. Top quality!" 

He hopped over to where Remus was and brandished the jars triumphantly in front of him, looking absolutely elated. 

"And here," squealed Peter from the other corner of the room. "They have instructions on how to relax when trying to relate to your inner animal. _And_ a potion to go with it as well!"

He grabbed three bottles of the potion and came over to the other two, dumping them onto the increasing pile of things James had already hoarded. 

"I wish there would be some sort of short bulletin, in bullet points, to like, summarise what's in all these books." James sighed, waving his hand at the vast number of books that lined the two walls. "We'd never get through all this!"

As if the room had heard him, a couple sheets of parchment appeared in thin air and floated down onto the table in front of them. On it, as requested by James, was a series of concise instructions on how to become an Animagus. 

"Wow!" exclaimed James. "How about I wish for a Silver Arrow 1500?"

"James!" admonished Remus, though not without a smile.

"What? Just checking."

Although no Silver Arrow 1500 appeared, James was jubilant with their haul from the room. 

"We'd better get back quick," said Remus, looking at the clock that hung on the wall. "It's nearly ten."

The three of them gathered up everything, trying to tuck as much as they possibly could up the front of their robes, and crossing their arms in front of them to prevent the jars of potion ingredients from clattering onto the floor. 

"We really should have brought the Invisibility Cloak with us," muttered James as they hurried along the corridors up to the common room, hoping not to meet up with anyone this time.

"Not to mention our map," added Remus. "But we never expected to stay out this long."

They reached the Fat Lady portrait without further incidence.

"_Chudley Cannons_," called out Remus, and they climbed in.

"Speaking of the Marauders Map," said James, as they hung up their coats by the doorway, "we should add that room to it. I don't remember seeing it there before."

"Nor me," said Remus and Peter together.

They went back to that corridor first thing the following morning, before breakfast, but the room wasn't there anymore.

"Strange," said James pensively. "I was sure it was here." 

"Ditto," replied Remus, puckering his brow at the blank wall where he was sure the door had been. "Wonder what happened to it."

"Maybe it moves around," suggested Peter. "Like those moving staircases. Those were a nightmare to plot on the map. And I don't think we've even gotten all of them yet."

"Ah well," shrugged James. "At least we will have some good news to tell Sirius today. We can get cracking on the Animagi process as soon as he gets out of the hospital wing."

With that, they hurried off for breakfast, the glowing feeling that had been swelling at the pit of Remus's stomach now burning ever more.


	4. The Full Moon

Thanks to Jobey/Green Eyed Lady for suggesting a scene that would even better support why Remus was so reluctant in curbing James and Sirius in the Pensieve scene in Snape's Worst Memory (OotP, Chapter 28).

**Disclaimer:** It's all J.K. Rowling's. I just dip into her Pensieve and elaborate on her creations.

**Author's Notes:**  The fourth in a collection of essays detailing the Marauders in their fifth year, written from Remus's POV. With the description JKR gives Remus, I just feel like jumping into the books and giving him a huge hug and a bowl of steaming chunky soup. J In this chapter, I have tried to get inside Remus's head, to try and sense what it must be like to be a werewolf on nights of the full moon, and what he thinks of his curse in general. I have also attempted to dissect how he must really feel when split between his conscience and his turning a blind eye to Sirius's and James's more outrageous behaviour. I hope I did not slaughter things in my efforts, and if I did, I claim responsibility for all damage. Moony and JKR are in no way to be blamed.

**A Year in the Life of a Wizarding Werewolf**

**- The Full Moon**

The full moon. It was tonight. Remus heaved a sigh as he slid out of bed and got ready for breakfast. Following it would be double Herbology. Charms. Lunch. Double Transfiguration. And finally, the Shrieking Shack. 

The students carried about their daily grind of lessons, point-earning (Slytherin, unfortunately, were leading), homework and meals, mixed in with laughter and the odd detention. It really was just like any other day. The Hufflepuffs were to have their Quidditch practice that night, and throughout Herbology, Michael Murray and Sean Hurst, their two Beaters, had been discussing tactics on how to best Slytherin in their match against them that Friday. Charms passed without much incident except where Peter had sent a bookcase crashing to the ground when he had missed Stunning Remus by several inches. Then in Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall had given them the usual piece of reading to do for homework, with added practical practice for those who had difficulties turning their rats to snuffboxes in class. All in all, it would appear to everyone that it was just a regular day.

Sirius, back from the hospital wing as good as new, was on overdrive. He hardly ceased talking about the Animagus loot which James, Remus and Peter had come across that night last week. He had wanted to try it again at once, but James and Peter had reminded him that both the salamander eyes and cockatrice liver had to be respectively steeped in alcohol and brine for two weeks before they could be used. Remus had also reminded him that, should this fail again, he did not want to have to come up with yet another explanation to an already suspicious Madam Pomfrey so soon after last week's incident.

The winter days were growing shorter and shorter, with sundown occurring well before evening time. Anxious to leave for Madam Pomfrey before the moon rose through the sky, Remus had left the Great Hall almost as soon as he had gotten there after his last class, pausing only to grab a bread roll off the table. As he exited the hall in the direction of the hospital wing, he heard the shouts of laughter and the chatter of students recounting their daily events filling up the Great Hall. Yes, it was just like any other day. _Except for me._

He had long since been used to this loneliness, this sort of extrication from the others. The hustle and bustle floating from the Great Hall gradually faded away as he felt himself drawing further and further away from their world. Yes, Remus would view his life from the perspective of two worlds. The wolf and the human. Two of them, so dissimilar, yet co-existing within his one being. It was the wolf that separated him from the rest of those he so longed to be a part of. And the seclusion that came with being the wolf was one that Remus found hardest to come to peaceable terms with. The feeling of isolation was mostly tolerable now, present only as a nagging, humming knot of emotions vibrating just underneath the surface. But there were times when these feelings would erupt and overflow, flooding any other human senses he possessed, so much that he had the compelling urge to howl, as if to purge all his being of emotions.

Without realising it, he had reached the hospital wing. He rapped lightly on the door as he peered round it. Madam Pomfrey came out of her office, saw the pale, thin boy framed in the doorway, and her eyes flickered over to the clock mounted on the wall.

"You are a bit early, dear," she said, looking him up and down as though inspecting him for something.

"Yeah," mumbled Remus. "I didn't want to leave it too late."

"Did you get you dinner?"

Remus held up the half-eaten roll he was clutching in his right hand. Madam Pomfrey tutted reprovingly.

"You need more than that, boy," she said sharply. "Here."

She tapped her wand on a tray lying on the table beside her, and a plate of roast chicken and vegetables appeared at once, accompanied by a bowl of bread and butter pudding.

"Eat that up. You've got plenty of time."

Remus sat down and ate in silence as Madam Pomfrey busied herself with some paperwork in her office. The last of the sunlight was disappearing over the horizon when Madam Pomfrey came out of the office, pulling on her coat. Remus had just spooned up his last drop of custard. Swallowing it quickly, he followed the nurse out onto the school grounds, across the lawn and towards the Whomping Willow. The Hufflepuffs seemed to be winding down from their practice session and Madam Pomfrey was walking rather swiftly, keeping near to the shadows so as to avoid the possibility of being seen. Behind her, Remus was scurrying to catch up with the brisk pace. His mind wandered over to what James, Sirius and Peter would be doing now. They might be finishing up that Potions essay that had to be handed in the next day. Remus, who had planned ahead as usual when it came to deadlines around the time of the full moon, had finished it a couple of days ago. But then again, they would more likely be discussing about Animagi, a topic they hadn't dropped at all for the past week. _How I wish they were here now!_

Apologising again, quite needlessly in Remus's opinion, during Herbology for botching up the last Animagus procedure, Sirius had asked if Remus would like to maybe take the Two-Way Mirror he and James often used in their separate detentions.

"You can call out for us and we will appear and just keep you company that way," he had suggested, genuinely sorry, and by all means looking as if having his friend locked up was entirely his fault.

Remus had shaken his head rather despondently. "No," he said wearily. "It's not going to work. I'd be smashing it to smithereens when I'm a wolf." 

He didn't want to add that it was the ferociousness of the wolf that would be the cause of the smashing. Admitting to losing his humanity as he transformed into a wolf was painful, and humiliating. He never revelled in the fact that he turned into a bloodthirsty animal once a month. Besides, he didn't need to say it. His friends knew anyway. They had often reassured him that they understood, and that they knew the wolf, although part of him, was not under his control on nights of the full moon. In fact, they never thought of him as anything but a best friend who happened to have a different lifestyle to theirs once per month. Instead, they had been willing to go to massive extents to fit into that difference in lifestyle. Never before had he came across people who were so accepting and supportive of his condition. And he would say outright now that he himself wasn't nearly as accepting of his alter ego as his friends were. 

He had gotten over his anger and resentment at receiving the curse itself. His mother, and her endless patience, had helped him a lot through that. As his bitterness subsided, the acceptance, however grudging, that ensued had helped him to just deal with everything a lot more. He had the chance of a normal life twenty-eight days out of the twenty-nine. He had a loving mother, relatively good health, a place at a wonderful school with the trust of a great wizard Albus Dumbledore. And of course, the most fabulous friends one could hope for. 

But one thing still plagued Remus's mind, and it was the fact that he could be ruthless and terrifying as a wolf. It was the part of him that he reviled, the part that invoked many feelings of self-doubt and loathing. To lose his mind, to have his control over himself and his actions stripped away, was unquestionably the worst element of the transformation. _A beast._ That's what he was. Professor Quirrell had said so himself during that Defence Against the Dark Arts class when they had been covering werewolves. He had eyed Remus rather edgily throughout the lesson too. What was it he said? _Werewolves, following their transformation on nights of the full moon, are bloodthirsty, highly dangerous creatures who lust after one aim. To hunt down, maul and kill humans. Should a victim survive, they would then be cursed as one of them. Their ferocity and cold-bloodedness strike fear into the hearts of all wizards (as well as myth-taken Muggles), although this killer instinct does not appear to extend to other animals. _

_Yes_, thought Remus mirthlessly. _That's me. The cold-blooded, treacherous serial killer_. Remus had sat through that class in a state of stupor, listening his teacher describe the creature he was so familiar with, yet so estranged from. In listening to studies describing his kind in such a cold, detached manner, Remus had felt like a lab rat. It had been like one of those nightmares where he'd show up to class completely naked, and everyone would be pointing and staring at him. Only it had been real. No one knew what he was of course, and there had been no pointing, nor staring, but he still had felt as if every eye in the classroom had born into him. As if the words themselves in the book were dancing round, mocking him. _A werewolf can be killed by a silver bullet, aimed straight at the heart._ Remus had almost gagged. Professor Quirrell might as well have shot a silver bullet right into Remus's own heart. He had tried to muffle a shriek, causing several people to stare at him strangely, while James and Sirius threw him looks of concern and sympathy. Peter, on the other hand, had darted several nervous peeks at him throughout that class, which made Remus flush and flinch as if someone had taken a whip to him. Getting through that hour while trying to maintain a sense of normality had been one of the hardest things he had ever done. He had felt physically sick, his mouth bitter from the taste of bile, when the bell had finally rung and he made his way to the Great Hall.

James and Sirius had laughed about that lesson that evening in the common room, and Peter too, had slowly come round, brushing aside the apprehension he had displayed earlier on during class. But the fact that he was the topic of study among students and scholars was just a tad bit disconcerting. 

_There you go then,_ he thought to himself wryly,_ forever immortalised in texts and tests._

"There you go then." A voice, rather distant, came filtering through his head, echoing simultaneously with his own thoughts.

Madam Pomfrey, gripping a long wooden stick in her hand, had prodded a knot in the trunk of the Whomping Willow. Remus hurriedly crawled in through a gap in the roots before the tree, which stood frozen, began its fierce thrashing of its branches again. Remus could hear her call back, "I'll be back at dawn tomorrow morning, dear," before the sound of vicious swishing of branches drowned out her voice.

Remus turned away from the entrance and starting making his way down along the passageway which lead to the Shrieking Shack, crawling on all fours as the roof of the tunnel dipped lower and lower. He was alone now. Truly alone. He drew a deep breath as a pang hit his heart. He hadn't felt this abandoned on a full moon in a long while. If anyone asked him at that very moment, he would gladly throw all caution to the wind and be firmly supporting his friends' decision to continue their Animagus project. In fact, he would be badgering them to hurry up with it. 

Upon approaching the Shrieking Shack, the emotions inside him churned over and over in the pit of his stomach, becoming impossible to differentiate. They consisted of the whirlwind of sensations that had taken place over the past week – the anticipation of the possibility of his friends finally becoming Animagi, the sharp disappointment at its failure, the heavy guilt he had felt over Sirius, followed by the renewed hope and excitement of attempting the task again. These emotions soon became more pronounced, channelling into raw passion as the wolf began to rear itself. 

Remus had learnt from experience that there was no point in trying to control the transformations. No matter how hard he tried to focus on retaining his humanity, the beckon of the moon always won out in the end. The wolf in him would emerge, and he would lose what he held on to most dearly – his sense of self. 

He stepped into the shack and firmly locked and bolted the door. As he turned to face the bleak, half-barren room, he felt the familiar prickling and tingling in the muscles and tendons of his limbs. It rapidly became a sharp, ripping sensation, as his ligaments stretched and pulled into that anatomy of a wolf. The throbbing soon spread throughout his whole body - his neck, his shoulders, his chest and hips. It felt as if every fibre of his body was on fire, as if he was being stretched very thin and branded with white-hot pokers. Remus let out a deep breath and shut his eyes, trying to block out the spasms. He had found out that the pain became tolerable, if he could shut his mind off from what was happening to his body, as if the two were separate entities. He focused on creating a schism between himself and the pain he was going through, and gradually felt it becoming more distant, more surreal. Instead, his mind now turned towards his friends. James. Sirius. Peter. They, who would have liked to join him tonight, and who were probably thinking about him and wondering how he was doing. Images of the warm fire crackling in the Gryffindor common room flew past him. Sounds of chatter and laughter from his housemates, the scratching of quills and the shuffling of parchment, the barbaric cries and clashes associated with an intense game of wizard chess rang in his ears. Yet, here he was, in the Shrieking Shack just on the outskirts of Hogsmeade town, alone. A wave of isolation crashed over him as he lifted his head and howled shrilly. The blood-curling cry filled the shack, penetrated through the shut windows and pierced through the night. He lifted his head again, to howl once more, wishing to rid himself of the throbbing sense of abandonment. Then, as the last of his senses succumbed to the resurgence of the wolf, he remembered no more.

* * *

Remus felt his shoulder digging into a hard surface. Opening his eyes, he made out the image of a mass of table and chair legs. He was lying on the dusty floor of the Shrieking Shack. Memories came flooding back to his mind. The full moon, it was last night. _It is over_, he thought with a torrent of relief. He wouldn't have to worry about it for another four weeks. He lifted his head off the floor and slowly pushed himself up. A piercing pain shot up his side. He glanced down and winced as he saw a jagged gash running down from below his shoulder to under his ribcage. Gingerly, he got up from the floor, his joints throbbing dully, his muscles stiff and aching. There was another deep slash down along his left arm, and the several smaller bites, scratches and bruises were beginning to hurt all over. 

Remus straightened up wearily and ruefully surveyed the room, rolling his head in an attempt to rid his neck of some of its rigidity. There was a fresh gnash on the door, though the door was so thick and heavy it barely registered the damage. The chairs and tables were strewn across the room. A leg of one of the chairs had been ripped off entirely, and a scattering of splinters littered the dusty floor. There, and on the walls and window, were several shiny streaks and patches amid the dust and grime, where the wolf must have hurled itself against in its desperation and rage. He really must have made a racket last night.

Remus walked round the room cautiously, so as not to jar the cut down his side, and tried to straighten up the mess as best as he could. Sunlight was streaming in through the smeared patch on the window, and Remus realised the sun was high up in the sky already. It was way past dawn. He moved as quickly as he could out of the shack and back into the passageway, gasping when a burning sensation which accompanied every sudden movement seared up him. He panted slightly, as he crept back up the passageway, bent over double, willing his aching limbs to move. Partway through the journey, he heard Madam Pomfrey's voice calling out for him. She must have come down to check on him when he hadn't shown up by the entrance of the Whomping Willow. 

"Here," he called back weakly, not wishing aggravate the gash any more than he could help. It hurt just to breathe.

He met up with the nurse a couple of moments later. Making his way back to Hogwarts was an ordeal Remus would not wish to experience again. His breath was coming in short rasps and his arms and legs were shaking by the time he climbed out of the entrance through the roots of the willow.

Madam Pomfrey turned round to study him with a look of concern. She took in the chalk-white face, the dark circles under the eyes, and the bruise on his forehead, which was turning an angry shade of purple, and quickly Magicked him up to the hospital wing on a stretcher.

A steady stream of dismayed tuts, mutters and clicks of the tongue escaped from Madam Pomfrey's lips as she assessed Remus's condition.

"Haven't seen you this bad in a while," she commented briskly, puffing up some pillows on the bed and tucking Remus in under the covers. "What _have_ you been doing?"

Remus, thankful to be snuggling down into a soft bed, lowered his eyes and didn't say anything.

"And that nasty-looking one there is going to take at least a couple of days to heal, even with my Ultra-Strong Cuts-B-Gone cream," she shuddered, eyeing the deep gash down his side.

Remus sank into the pillows and closed his eyes, exhausted. The smooth, thick cream stung a bit upon its initial application, but gradually become cool and soothing. Madam Pomfrey handed him a vial of potion ('to ease the pain a tad, dear') and then left, drawing the curtains round his bed shut. Remus sighed, rolled over and fell into a deep sleep almost right away.

He slept right through till dinnertime, aside from being woken up in the middle of the day by the nurse with a bowl of steaming thick soup and another vial of potion, this one, for putting him on the mend faster. 

He was just polishing off his pudding, ravenous following his long rest, when Sirius and Peter came in, armed with Chocolate Frogs, Pepper Imps, Chocoballs and a huge tub of Dumbledore's favourite Muggle sweet – sherbet lemons.

"Where did you get these?" asked Remus, indicating the sherbets.

"Courtesy of my cousin Andromeda's in-laws," beamed Sirius.

"The Tonks'?" guessed Remus.

"Yup. Freshly Owled in just this morning. Here, take one," he offered the tub to Remus, and then Peter. 

"Where's James?" asked Remus, looking at them, sucking on the sherbet.

"In detention," answered Sirius, crunching up his sweet noisily. 

"Again?" asked Remus incredulously. "With who? McGonagall?"

Sirius and Peter exchanged amused looks, trying to curb their mirth.

"No, not McGonagall. Professor Sprout."

"Professor Sprout!" exclaimed Remus, even more incredulously. In all his years at Hogwarts, he had never heard the teacher dole out a single detention.

"Yup," answered Sirius cheerfully, as Peter chortled into his robes, choking on his sweet in the process.

"What on earth did he get himself up to for her to lose it?" asked Remus, his mind boggling.

"Well," Sirius was grinning wickedly now. "He had nicked a ton of Puffapods during our Herbology class yesterday, you see."

"Then he sneaked down to the greenhouses before breakfast this morning," continued Peter, breathless with laughter. "He levitated the Puffapods in through the windows Sprout had left slightly open last night, scattered them all over the floor, and well— "

"Let me guess," groaned Remus, sinking back into the pillows, covering his eyes with his hand. "Those Puffapods burst into bloom all over the floor of the greenhouses."

"Better than that," smirked Sirius, helping himself to another sherbet. "He sowed so many, the whole of the greenhouses were crammed to the gills with those bloody plants. Stems and leaves were everywhere."

  
"And he didn't stop there," added Peter, as Remus began to shake his head in despair. "He dropped the Puffapods around the outside of the greenhouses as well." Remus groaned even louder this time. "Of course, they took so well they covered the whole of the outside of the greenhouses. You couldn't even see the doors!" Peter collapsed into helpless giggles on Remus's bed.

Remus shut his eyes tight before opening them again. "Did Sprout, er, manage to get in after all that?"

"Yeah," Sirius replied, as Peter was still too busy doubling over the bed.  "Eventually. It took her quite a while before she could rid of all the stuff though. James did a really good job there."

"He is at the greenhouses now, shelling more Puffapods to replace those he took, and re-potting Mandrakes," gasped Peter, finally sitting up and doing his best to control himself. "He's banned from our next trip to Hogsmeade too."

Remus looked startled. "No Hogsmeade? But it's Christmas!" This sounded to him a worse predicament than that of any detention. "We were going to buy our presents together!  And have butterbeers at The Three Broomsticks."

"Well," shrugged Sirius. "He could sneak out using that passageway from behind the mirror, I guess."

"But that ends up by The Three Broomsticks. The teachers are always there. He's bound to be seen," squeaked Peter.

"He's got his Invisibility Cloak," reminded Remus. "It'd be awful missing Christmas shopping." He loved the atmosphere of Christmas. The snow and frostiness of the outdoors, contrasting with the warmth and cosiness found indoors. Even with the enormous crowds, he loved the hustle bustle and excitement that the festive season provided. The Hogsmeade trip before the Christmas holidays was one of his favourite events at Hogwarts.

"There, there now, you two," Madam Pomfrey bustled in, flapping her arms at Sirius and Peter. "Off you go, the boy needs his rest." And with that, she ushered them out of the wing.

Remus snuggled back into his cocoon of blankets, shaking his head and chuckling to himself as he tried to conjure up the image of Puffapod-clad greenhouses and Professor Sprout's expression upon catching sight of them that morning. He then turned his mind to the classes he had missed that day. He was just going over what he might have to make up for in Ancient Runes when a soft scuffle by the doorway caught his attention. He turned round quickly and saw James, sauntering in, his hair even untidier than usual, with flecks of soil embedded within the locks.

Remus swiftly scanned the room for signs of Madam Pomfrey. She was in her office at the far end of the wing with the blinds drawn. 

"So," he said dryly, swivelling back round to face James. "How was detention?"

James's face lit up. "Oh you heard?" he asked delightedly. "Oh Moony! You should have been there! It was just bloody brilliant!"

"The detention?" asked Remus in a maddeningly innocent voice.

"No!" cried James with amused frustration, leaping up and pretending to smother Remus with the pillows. "Puffapods! The Puffapods! It was ingenious."

"Until you got caught," pointed out Remus, fighting his way out of the sea of pillows.

"Yeah," admitted James, sitting down and taking one of the Chocolate Frogs Sirius and Peter had left behind earlier on. "That was rather unfortunate."

"How did Sprout find out it was you anyway?"

"Snape," spat James in disgust. "He was part of that morning Herbology class and ratted to Sprout that he saw me sneaking out before breakfast."

"Snape should really keep his abnormally large nose out of other peoples' business," Remus said solemnly. "So, you are banned from going to Hogsmeade?" he asked, changing to the subject that mattered most to him.

James shrugged casually. "So to speak," he said lightly.

Remus narrowed his eyes a touch. "You are thinking of using that passageway behind the mirror again, aren't you?" he asked, mock-accusingly.

"No," replied James, trying, in vain, to suppress a grin.

Remus studied his face intently. James really did not appear to be lying, nor did he show any intention of staying behind for that Hogsmeade trip either. Curiosity got the better of Remus.

"What have you got up your sleeves now?" he demanded.

"You just wait," said James, beaming cheekily. "Look, I'd better scoot."

There was the sound of Madam Pomfrey opening her office door. James gave Remus a parting wink and darted out of the room. Madam Pomfrey came over to check on Remus, handing him one last dose of potion before switching off the lights.

Remus drifted off to sleep, thankful that his aches and pains have, for the most part, subsided. He was woken up some time later by a pair of feet clopping across the floor of the wing, followed by a conversation in hushed voices.

"Poppy? There you are. The Headmaster mentioned I would like a word?"

Remus recognised the voice. It was Professor Noirforre, head of Slytherin house.

"Yes, he did indeed, Norman. I gather it concerns one of your pupils."

"Yes. Severus Snape."

Remus drew a sharp intake of breath when he heard Snape's name. He quietly shifted his head among the pillows so as to free both ears to catch the whispers.

"The skinny, black-haired boy?" _Greasy too_, thought Remus.

"Yes, that's the one. He seems to be extremely agitated at the moment. Has been for a while in fact. Not been able to sleep, distancing himself from others. Not that he's ever been Mr. Popular, but it appears he is more withdrawn than usual. Quite bad-tempered and sullen as well."

"Hmm." Madam Pomfrey sounded as if this was old news to her.

Professor Noirforre ignored her and went on. "Of course, that trouble he's been having at home for the past few months hasn't helped."

"I'd say it would likely be the source of the problems," Madam Pomfrey corrected him. "A deranged father, one of those Death Eaters for a mother. You can't be get a balanced kid out of that mix," she said darkly.

_Death Eater_?

"Yes, yes," agreed Professor Noirforre. "The boy really has a lot in his cauldron, too much, I believe, for him to be dealing with. But," he continued, adopting a bossier tone, "is there anything you could possibly do for him? A potion perhaps, to ease his anxiety and help him sleep? He's intelligent. I wouldn't like to see this affect his OWLs."

"A distilled dose of the Draught of Peace then?" suggested Madam Pomfrey. "I am sure Phaerius Sharkhorn would be able to provide the potion, and I will distil it myself. Don't trust anyone else to do that, I don't."

"Thank you," said Professor Noirforre, sounding satisfied. "Goodnight."

Remus could hear him make his way out of the hospital wing. It was a while before he could drift off to sleep again as his mind replayed the conversation over and over. He lay there, mulling over what was said.

_What was a Death Eater_?

Remus didn't tell anyone what he had overheard that night when Madam Pomfrey, upon inspecting him thoroughly the following day, sent him back to classes after lunch. It somehow sounded just too private to be converted to common room gossip, even though it concerned someone as despicable as Snape.

* * *

Life dragged on rather uneventfully leading up to the final week before Christmas, and with it the Hogsmeade trip, scheduled a couple of days before the break-up for the holidays. The only thing that put a hiccup on matters was an Owl Sirius had gotten at breakfast one morning from his parents, firmly requesting him return home for the holidays this time.

"And by 'firmly requesting', they really mean 'demanding, upon pain of death'," Sirius had moaned gloomily. "What do they want with me anyway?"

Remus knew Sirius hated his family home in London. His family went against everything Sirius believed in. Or rather, according to his parents, he was the one who went against everything _they_ believed in. The Blacks were a pure-blood centric family who did not look too kindly on whom they considered half-breeds or Mudbloods. Remus had never been to the London home (and was certain he would not be welcome there, given his, ahem, condition), but James had been a couple of years ago, and what was his polite term for it? _Quite forbidding, not my cup of tea really, though the décor is quite interesting, and er, regal._

Remus had taken a peek at the rather forceful wording of the letter. "Maybe they just want to see you, seeing you are never home for the hols," he had suggested. He was right there, Sirius never went to Grimmauld Place if he could help it. He typically spent all his time out of school with the Potters, who have adopted him as part of the family.

Sirius had snorted loudly. "They want a chance to praise ole Regulus to even greater heights, for his being a good little boy and upholding the _honourable_ tradition of the noble and most ancient house of Black," he had said sardonically. "With me around, it provides a lovely contrast, you see. In his favour. A bunch of fanatical bigots, the whole lot of them."

No one mentioned the letter after that, though Sirius grew progressively sulkier and more dejected over the following days. His temper grew short and he took to snapping at Remus and Peter every so often. Never at James, though it in all likelihood, it wouldn't have had an effect anyway, as James typically disregarded Sirius's, at times, severe mood swings. It was only the thought of Hogsmeade that kept Sirius going, and cheered him up, giving him something to look forward to. 

The day of the Hogsmeade trip dawned clear and bright. The winter sun cast its mild warmth over the grounds, causing the snow, which blanketed the landscape, to glisten in its light. The air was refreshingly crisp and dry.

"What a perfect day for Hogsmeade," sighed Caitlyn happily. "We can even sit out on the benches at The Three Broomsticks with our butterbeers if the wind doesn't start up again.

"Sit outside?" echoed Tamsin in horror. "In this temperature? Better you than me."

"Just because you like hogging the armchairs by the fire every evening," retorted Caitlyn. "It's more fun outside. Less crowded and smokey, and you can get a snowball fight thrown in."

  
"Oh, that's always fun!" exclaimed James eagerly. "Can I joi-" 

A few seats down, Lily was staring at him with a shrewd expression on her face, cocking an eyebrow suspiciously. 

"…. –ust hear all about it if you do get into one?" he asked, swiftly changing the direction his sentence was going in as he noticed her look. "I mean, people in the streets start them up all the time. You might even get two." 

Caitlyn, not noticing the last second adjustment James had made to his question, merely nodded, chewing on her toast.

"Boy, you really are desperate for action aren't you, if you are begging for reports on snowballs fights that took place during a Hogsmeade trip you are banned from."

"Of course," said James cheerfully, casually playing along while keeping a close eye on Lily's disapproving scowl.

After breakfast, the students gathered out in the Entrance Hall before setting off into the village. James so confidently followed Remus, Sirius and Peter in joining the queue that Remus began to wonder if James was actually going to slip off with them right under the nose of Professor McGonagall. He was about to open his mouth and ask when—

"Potter? What are you doing here?"

"Just seeing them off, miss," replied James at once, waving his hand towards the other three. 

Professor McGonagall eyed him in a scrutinising manner and gave a disbelieving grunt as she wrapped a tartan scarf securely round her neck.

"Well, we are leaving now. So hurry along," she indicated the doorway that led back into the Great Hall. 

James heaved an exaggerated sigh and slowly slouched off, dragging his feet deliberately as he went. Remus was half-appalled, and half-impressed, by the sheer audacity of it all. Professor McGonagall, however, remained utterly unruffled by the act.

"C'mon now, Potter. Scoot."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," protested James under his breath.

"Merlin's got nothing to do with it," said Professor McGonagall tartly, whose acute sense of hearing missed nothing. And with that, she hustled the students down the stone steps where the school carriages were waiting to take them into Hogsmeade.

The village was already bustling with activity when the students arrived, even though it was still relatively early in the day. Witches and wizards were doing their last minute shopping, purchasing presents which they had forgotten, choosing large, fat turkeys and picking out the freshest vegetables at the open market stalls that were situated down at the end of the main street by Dervish and Banges. 

Remus, Sirius and Peter ignored the turkeys and vegetables (after all, they were going to have their dinner cooked for them at home over the holidays) and weaved their way in and out of the crowds, occasionally stopping to look at the festive displays in the windows of the shops lined along the main street. There were mistletoes floating in the air, fluttering fairies each emitting a shimmering light and enchanted figurines of elves, reindeer and Santa Clauses on powdered snow, belting out carols loudly as they danced about.

Remus ducked into Dervish and Banges for a few minutes, to get a couple of quills for himself to replace those whose tips were worn down. He also picked up the newly published book, "_A Goddess Among Witches: The Mythology and Folklore surrounding the legend Hecate_ by Gwendoline Hildergaint", for his mum as a Christmas present.

Armed with his purchases coming out of the shop, Remus met up with Sirius and Peter who were looking at some Muggle fancy-dress clothing on show at the display window of Gladrags.

"Look at that guy," Peter was saying as Remus made his way up to them. "You call that dress-up? Why, we wear those robes and hats every day. What's so unusual about it?"

"Boring," Sirius agreed. "I way prefer that one with the black eye patch. I like that hat, and look at that hook instead of a hand. I wonder how he managed that. And, hey, are those _drawings_, there, on his arm?" He peered at an intricate design stamped onto the model's forearm.

"It's called a tattoo," Remus informed them from behind. "Muggles seem to have this bizarre practice of stencilling pictures onto themselves. Why would anyone want to do that is beyond me."

"But it's cool, I think!" exclaimed Sirius. "Do you know where you can get them done?"

"No," said Remus firmly, with a look that clearly indicated he wanted Sirius to be involved with nothing of that sort. 

They decided to visit Honeydukes to stock up on sweets before they continued their way round the village. The ever-popular sweet shop, which was normally a hive of activity on the days of Hogsmeade trips, was absolutely packed to the gills this day with additional customers of parents and small children, buying dazzling assortments of sugar quills, Chocoballs, Ever-Lasting Gobstoppers, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum and fudge creams as stocking stuffers. Remus, Sirius and Peter threaded their way into the shop, careful not to upset the huge stacks of chocolate and sweets piled precariously on the shelves and tables throughout it. They were by the stand advertised as  "_New arrivals! Just in! Tired of the same old sweets? Try these and let your taste buds dance!_" when a hand thumped heavily on Sirius's shoulder, giving him a fright. 

"What the blazes— " he began, and swung round, nearly emptying the box of Fizzling Sherbet Powder all over Peter.

There, looking at them in their faces, was the irrepressible smirking face of—

"James!" cried Remus. "When did you get here? Is The Three Broomsticks busy? Are the teachers all gathered there?"

"Dunno," answered James, picking up a sherry-filled chocolate elf and sniffing it. "I got here about two minutes ago."

"What do you mean, you don't know? Didn't you just come from there?"

"No," said James, who was now rooting through the pot of Every Flavour Jelly Dragons.

The other three looked at each other in surprise when suddenly Remus recalled what James had said to him when he had visited him in the hospital wing.

"Has this anything got to do with what you seemed so smug about that night when you came to see me after the full moon?"

James nodded, grinning widely. "There is a secret passageway right into the cellars downstairs," he jerked his head in the direction of the back door of Honeydukes. "You get in through that one-eyed witch on the third floor. I came across that by accident when I got back from Quidditch practice just a couple of days before the Puffapod incident."

"And you didn't tell us?" asked Sirius accusingly.

"Well, I was going to, until I was banned from this little trip here. Then I thought I would surprise you by just showing up, and be able to vouch honestly I didn't use the other passageway on the fourth floor."

"We can add this on to the map then," said Peter in a low voice.

"Oh definitely," nodded James. "We still need to come up with a title page for it though. You know, signing our work of art, so to speak."

"I am sure we will think of something soon. At least we have figured out a way on how to activate it now, and to wipe it clean afterwards."

"Yes, I have to say I am rather pleased with those passwords," chuckled Remus. "Nobody would ever dream of tapping their wands on a piece of parchment and uttering the words of 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.'"

They left Honeydukes, their pockets stashed with a bit of everything (or nearly everything - they avoided the Blood Gumdrops and Centipede Crunchbombs), and made their way towards Zonko's. It was here that James and Sirius appeared to be transported to fantasyland. If they could afford some of the things that the shop offered, Remus was sure that no one in Gryffindor Tower, or Hogwarts as a whole for that matter, would be safe from being the brunt of a joke.

"Look at that Biting Quill. That's new, just in for Christmas, I bet. Your hands would be in bits by the time you manage to get rid of it. And that Contorting Mirror. We should give that to Gertrude and Tamsin. It will stop them primping themselves up all the time. Do you see them checking their reflection in _every single_ mirror or glass surface they come across?"

"And those Filibuster's Fireworks. He's got some new stuff out. Look, Ever-Lasting Fizz-Whizzes, Annoyingly Zooming Rocketships, Auto-Spelling Whizzlers. Oh, these are cool!"

"I hate to interrupt," Remus said, clearing his throat. "I think we'd better focus more on getting some more of the Invisibly Revisible Ink to continue writing the map with. We are running low on that, and it is very expensive."

Sirius and James reluctantly pulled themselves away from the fireworks shelf and followed Remus and Peter to the back of the shop where the stationery was kept. They pooled their money together to get two pots of the ink, and James, not being able to resist it, got a Biting Quill for himself as well.

Finally, they made their way to The Three Broomsticks, James now under his Invisibility Cloak. 

"I think we'd better sit outside," said Remus, taking a quick look inside the pub. "It is like sardines in a tin inside there. Not to mention the entire staff of the school is sitting right in the centre of the bar."

So Peter, Remus and an invisible James settled themselves on a wooden table outside the pub while Sirius went in to get four butterbeers. 

"Don't think you should get into a snowball fight now, James," Peter said as they saw a group of students a few feet away from them starting one up. "I don't think snowballs being hurled out of nowhere it going to go down that well." Somewhere to the right of him, there was a deep, regretful sigh. 

The four of them finished their butterbeers leisurely, enjoying a couple of snowball fights near them. James was sandwiched between Peter and Sirius, trying to sip his drink surreptitiously without people noticing a tankard was moving through the air and emptying itself of frothing butterbeer seemingly all on its own. Around mid- afternoon, the teachers trudged out of The Three Broomsticks and rounded up the students, wishing to return to the castle before it got dark, which was at about four o'clock these days. 

James had already hurried off round to the back of the bar shortly beforehand in order to get back to Hogwarts in time. As the students noisily piled into the Great Hall, he made an elaborate show of greeting Remus, Sirius and Peter right under Professor McGonagall's nose, asking loudly how their day had been. Remus was thankful that the teacher was distracted by a scuffle between a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw at the other end of the hall at that point, for she surely would not have missed the knowing glint in James's eyes, the shaking of Sirius's shoulders betraying his silent laughter, nor the muffled snorts of Peter, who had stuffed his knuckles in his mouth in an effort to stem their flow.

The dinner feast that night was superb. Each and every type of food Remus could have ever imagined was served. Even the Fizzling Sherbet Powder that Sirius had nearly split at Honeydukes. When dinner was over, and every scrap of food had been eaten, the four of them could barely make their way up to Gryffindor Tower. 

"Oof!" panted Sirius as he clutched his stomach, leaning against the wall where the Fat Lady hung, "I think I'm going to burst!"

"_Nimbly Nimbats!_" grunted James, and the portrait swung open for them to drag themselves into the common room, before crashing out on the armchairs by the crackling fire.

* * *

With the Hogsmeade trip now behind them, Sirius sunk even deeper into his depression, moodier and more sullen than Remus had ever seen him. James took no notice of this, and behaved much the way he normally did, jovial and teasing. He was probably the only person who could get away with it unscathed. Peter, on the other hand, nervously tiptoed round Sirius, as if he was treading on (very fragile) eggshells. Sirius was getting dreadfully short with his constant gibbering over James.

"I don't titter, do I?" Peter asked Remus huffily, giving his robes a grumpy tug when Sirius had called him a tittering simpleton over breakfast on the final morning before the holidays.

"No, of course not," Remus said at once. "Sirius is just frustrated that he has to go back home. You know how he hates it. So he's just venting."

"Well, I wish he would stop taking it out on us!"

Remus wished so too. Sirius in a bad temper was not a comfortable atmosphere to be in. But still, he thought to himself, they break up the following day and they just had to cope with Sirius for one more day. And when they come back after the holidays, he would be back to his old self, looking forward to a new term out of his parents' house.

There were no classes after lunch that day, and after a meal of roast beef, vegetables and chocolate cake, the four decided they wanted to go for a walk in the school grounds, and made their way back to the common room to grab their coats. They bumped into Snape on the way, his nose, as always, immersed inside a book. 

"Oh, lookie who's here?" drawled Sirius, in a sing-song voice.

Snape yanked his head out of the book and pulled out his wand in a snap.

"_Expelliarmus_!" James was too quick for him, and Snape's wand flew out of his hand and into James's. Snape stood there, his hand held uselessly in the air, glaring daggers at them.

"So what is ole Snivelly reading?" said Sirius, continuing in that sing-song tone of his, craning his head to look at the title. "Ooh, _vampires_!" He rubbed his hands together, his eyes glinting vindictively. "_Interesting_."

"Why, are you interested in vampires, Snivellus?" taunted James. "Or maybe," he went on snidely, "you are _afraid_ of them?"

Snape gave a derisive laugh, but said nothing.

"Oh yes, Snivy, I have heard things. Like how you haven't been sleeping properly these last few months. Been lying awake at night. Maybe you are too scared to sleep, in case you have nightmares about vampires," James laughed silkily.

Snape stiffened upon the mention of his sleepless nights. "I don't lie awake at night!" he shot back, a little too defensively. "You are just making it up in that big fat head of yours, Potter!"

Sirius raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, I don't think so," he said smoothly. "We keep our ears open you see, and little birds have been telling us baby Snape here has been having trouble sleeping this year."

What little colour Snape had in his sallow face drained out of it. "Maybe you should be more careful of what little birds you listen to, Black," he retorted in a croaky voice, trying his best to maintain some sort of dignity.

"Caught you out there then, didn't we?" said Sirius, ignoring Snape's last comment. "You want a hanky, for you to sob into?" His sharp eyes digested every flinch of the face, every tremble of the lip and every blink of the eyes Snape made. He dug out a table napkin from his robes, and levitated it in front of Snape's face.

Remus took in the balls of Snape's fists, half hidden in the sleeves of his robes, the quick, nervous lick of his lips and his slightly trembling frame. He recalled the hushed conversation he had overheard at the hospital wing after the full moon, and he stepped forward. 

"C'mon guys. Just leave him alone," he said, as mildly as he could, ignoring Snape's mutinous glare in their direction and the corresponding leering look of his two friends.

"Why?" asked Sirius, now giving Remus an irritated look at being interrupted. 

"Because it's Christmas, the holidays are here, can't you just leave him alone for once?" he implored, now trying to loosen Snape's wand from James's firm grip. 

"Snivelly doesn't deserve a break, Remus," growled Sirius. "He got a big enough one from James last year." He swung round to face Snape again. "Saved your miserable, stinking life, so he did," he hissed. "You ungrateful little brat."

"Sirius, please!" cried Remus hoarsely. But Snape now, had a malicious gleam in his black-tunnelled eyes. 

"Well, yes," he said, his voice dangerously soft. "But that is because Black, you and Potter, have such a _poor_ choice of friends." He eyed Remus spitefully. "No one with a respectable background would want a werewolf as a friend, right, Lupin?"

Remus froze as the gibe sank in. James and Sirius made to dash forward so as to punch Snape in his abnormally long hooked nose. Remus got a grip on himself just in time to hold them back, struggling with all his might to prevent them from pummelling the Slytherin to a pulp. Snape, watching the spectacle with amusement, now casually called out "_Accio_ _wand_!" and swept off as his wand zipped out of James's hand and into his own.

"What did you do that for?" bellowed Sirius furiously at Remus. 

"Did you not hear him insult you?" snapped James, now roughly trying to extricate himself from Remus's grip.

"He didn't start it," said Remus quietly.

"What, you are blaming us now?" cried Sirius hotly.

Remus tried to ignore the accusatory look Sirius was giving him. "You did start it," he reasoned softly. 

"It was just a bit of fun!" Sirius shot back impatiently.

Remus felt his frustration at Sirius and James well up within him. He normally tolerated their antics and pranks pretty well, but he did wish they wouldn't pick on Snape as unwarrantedly as they did, no matter how much the boy may irk them. It somehow just didn't seem right. Snape would at times infuriate Remus too, but Remus coped with it. Why couldn't his friends?

"Until he turned it around on us. Wasn't so funny then, I have to say," he said evenly.

Sirius glared at him. "Who's side are you on anyway? You sticking up for him now?"

Remus looked him straight in the eye and said quietly, but firmly. "I don't think you ever need to question where my loyalties lie, Sirius."

There was a pause, before Sirius's temper rose again, and he said angrily, "Well, maybe I need to question where your sense of fun went. Did it go when you got that shiny, polished prefect's badge? You think you are above all of us now, don't you?"

A ringing silence ensued, broken only by a nervous gasp from Peter, who had hung back in the shadows by the wall throughout the whole incident. Remus stared blankly at his friend, not certain, even, of how to interpret the comment. He swallowed hard.

"You surely don't think that," he said, his throat dry.

"I don't know what to think," Sirius said coldly. "Sometimes, I wonder if it is worthwhile becoming Animagi for you, Moony, if you are such a spoilsport. Maybe you'd go running to McGonagall, telling her what we are if we did. Illegal Animagi, after all, is more of a crime than picking on Snape."

"Sirius! Enough!" James finally found his voice and shot a warning look at his fuming friend.

Remus felt faint. It was as if someone had yanked a rug from underneath him. As if Sirius had pulled a plug from him and emptied him of all air. What Sirius had said made Remus feel worse than any insult Snape could possibly ever hurl at him. Sirius took in James's look, darted a last fleeting glare at Remus and stalked off. Remus dazedly mumbled about needing to go to the library. James gave Remus a long, concerned look before hurrying after Sirius. Peter, hanging around diffidently for a few seconds, decided to follow James, much to Remus's relief, who wanted to be alone.

As he lay in bed up in the dormitory that night, Remus couldn't get the argument out of his mind. He felt he was somehow responsible for it. _Don't be silly, _he told himself. _You did the right thing. Snape was doing nothing to provoke the attack. Sirius was just moody and grumpy, knowing he has to go back home tomorrow._ _He said so himself._ Indeed, he had. When Remus went back to Gryffindor Tower after spending a couple of hours collecting his thoughts in the library, Sirius was waiting for him, together with James and Peter. He had immediately gone up to Remus and apologised without a trace of bitterness, genuinely contrite at his own behaviour towards him earlier on. Still, part of what Sirius had said was nagging him. Maybe he _was_ being too priggish and pedantic. _No, you know you aren't. You aren't a Marauder for nothing, you know._ But he didn't usually come up with the pranks, James and Sirius did. And this time, Remus had stopped them right in the middle of it. _Stop. Didn't you have a good laugh over the Puffapod incident? Aren't you eager about the Animagus project? You enjoy a good joke as much as the next person, **as long as it doesn't harm anyone else**. There is a difference between fun and bullying._ What if Sirius really was right? What if they think it isn't worth it becoming Animagi anymore? _They are your friends. They have been working at this for three years. Been your friends for more than that. It doesn't go away with just a single heated quarrel. _What if he doesn't deserve them doing this for him? Maybe- _oh shut up! There was nothing wrong with what you did by standing up to Sirius today. You know it. _Remus sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was to upset anyone, especially his best friends. He just wanted to be liked and accepted. _Of course you are._ Yes, of course he was, Remus thought resolutely, as he tried to drown out the little nagging thought that had wormed its way in his mind through the niche his self-doubt had created. It was the wee early hours of the morning before Remus dosed off in a fitful sleep.


	5. Success At Last

**Disclaimer:** It's all J.K. Rowling's. You like Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs? Go thank her!

**Author's Notes:**  The fifth in a collection of short stories detailing the Marauders' fifth year at Hogwarts, told from Remus's POV. Just to clarify where this falls within the timeline, it starts just after the Christmas holidays during the fifth year.

**A Year in the Life of a Wizarding Werewolf**

**- Success At Last**

They were barely one week into the winter school term when the vigour of their classes and the amount of homework resumed to normal, if not intensified. Sirius, as Remus had predicted, was back to his old self, having abandoned his moodiness now that his stay at Grimmauld Place was firmly behind him. He, as with James and Peter, had long since forgotten his outburst against Remus that had taken place before Christmas. When asked by James, he had described his Christmas as "positively abysmal" and the subject was broached no further. 

The full moon wouldn't be for another three weeks, but James, Sirius and Peter were keen to try the Animagus transformation again as soon as possible. 

"It gives us time to fiddle around with it, you see, should we need to." James said. "Then Moony ole pal, that transformation you had over the new year will be the last one you would have gone through on your own."

Remus couldn't help feeling very excited upon hearing this. Try as warning bells in his head might ring out that they were involved in a seriously illegal project, they couldn't quell the thrill and anticipation he had at the thought of saying goodbye to nights of captivity when he was a wolf. He would be able to romp around in the middle of the night with his friends, be able to explore the Forbidden Forest in ways that they would never have dreamt of before. The thought of having an adventure lined up for each month was very appealing in the midst of the stress from homework and the ever-approaching OWLs. 

It was decided that the four of them would brew the potion on a Friday evening, in readiness for its use over the weekend, which they figured, would be the most convenient time to try the transformations. At least then, they would have the entire Saturday to do whatever they wanted, rather than risk slinking out late at night, followed by a Sunday to clean up any mess, should they need to.

The potion brewing itself went without mishap. They did it in the secret passageway clearing where they had carried out that semi-successful transformation before Christmas. The only snag they encountered, completely unrelated to potion brewing, was the deceptively tricky job of slipping out from behind the mirror unseen. Scanning the Marauders Map to check if the coast was clear, they discovered a steady stream of students and teachers milling up and down the corridor. 

"This is ridiculous!" cried Sirius in frustration, after ten minutes of hanging around behind the mirror. "Why are people wandering around the corridors at this time of the bloody night?"

"It isn't as if we aren't doing the same thing here too, you know," Peter pointed out.

"We are out here for a purpose," said Sirius. "What's their excuse? They should be in their common rooms, doing homework, and studying." 

James snorted loudly.

"I doubt if that would somehow apply to Kettleburn," commented Remus mildly, pointing to a dot labelled "Sebastian Kettleburn" which had just rounded the corner and was making its way down the corridor. 

"Well, he should be down in the school grounds feeding lettuce to those Flobberworms then, or something," Sirius grumbled, pacing behind the mirror impatiently.

Finally, after a few more minutes, the corridor eventually cleared and the four of them hurriedly climbed out from behind the mirror. 

"I hope we don't have this much trouble getting in or out tomorrow," said James, as they made their way back to the Gryffindor common room. "Or else, it might just be simpler doing this in the middle of the night."

On Saturday morning, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter gathered their bags containing the stuff they needed for the transformation, shot down to the Great Hall where they gulped down their breakfast in record time and flew off to the mirror on the fourth floor before half the castle had even gotten out of bed.

"_Apertio_!" James said, tapping the mirror with his wand. It swung open to one side, leaving a gaping hole in which they climbed through.

"_Lumos_." The tip of Sirius's wand lit up and he led the way down the passageway. 

The four of them didn't say much on the way to the clearing where they had left their cauldron and firewood the previous evening. They were all too nervous, too anxious. _Would it work this time? Would it?_

Remus was on tenterhooks. His insides were in knots, and he almost regretted the bowl of porridge he had for breakfast. It was sitting rather uncomfortably in his clenched stomach. He took several deep, calming breaths as they stepped into the large bay that hollowed out from the passageway.

"C'mon, let's get started then, shall we?" asked James in a would-be casual tone.

Just as last time, the potion was heated up and the parchment containing the incantation, now with the modified pronunciations, was laid out. As the Animagus potion came to a slow simmer, James, Sirius and Peter exchanged hopeful glances, then each reached for a small vial containing what they have come to term as the "Relaxo Remedy" and downed it in one go.

"Urgh!" spluttered Peter. "It's _revolting_!"

"I feel funny," said Sirius faintly, giving himself a shake. "A bit woozy." He blinked hard as if to register his whereabouts, and then keeled over.

Remus uttered a soundless cry of horror, and dashed up to him. "Sirius? Are you okay? Was the potion— it-it isn't poisoned, is it?" he asked, a feeling of dread seeping through him. He should have known better than to trust an unplottable room that suspiciously knew exactly what they desired most. He berated himself for ever being so gullible, as thoughts on how to explain to Madam Pomfrey the circumstances leading to three poisoned friends hurtled through his mind.

"Don't be daft, Moony," James's dismissive voice came penetrating through the tirade of plausible excuses. "The potion just soothes you down and clears your mind, which is what it is supposed to do. Sirius is just bluffing, he's putting it on. As usual." 

"Am not!" cried Sirius, looking highly affronted, straightening himself up now. "Well, okay, maybe just a bit," he relented.

Remus let out an indignant cry and jabbed Sirius in the ribs. Hard. 

"Ouch! Whaddya do that for?" asked Sirius, nursing his ribcage, but an impish glint was evident in his eyes. He gave Remus a shove, which sent them both off balance and collapsing onto the floor.

"Hey guys," said Peter warningly, speaking up above the din, "mind the potion."

The scuffle stopped at once. The potion was close to boiling. Disentangling himself, Sirius leapt up off the ground and whipped the cauldron off the fire. Remus extinguished the fire with his wand before the smoke from it could fill up the passageway. 

"Looks okay," said James, peering into the slightly bubbling liquid. 

"Smells alright too," said Sirius, taking a whiff of the pungent concoction. "C'mon, I'll go first."

He ladled some of the potion out carefully and took a sip. The other three grabbed the piece of parchment and began the incantation. There were several long minutes, several long, seemingly endless minutes, as they stared in painful intensity at Sirius. Then, an odd shimmer appeared around the outline of Sirius's form. They looked on, entranced, as the shimmer grew more pronounced, until Sirius's figure became a blur, an undistinguishable shadow of black. Remus was breathing hard and fast now. His heart gathered pace, thumping so loudly against his chest, he felt it would jump right out of him in any second. There was an innate sensation of certainty that this _was_ going to work. At last, at long last. 

The blurring gradually faded away, the outline of the black figure now grew sharper and sharper, until, there, emerging in front of James, Peter and Remus, was—

A dog. A gigantic, bear-like dog, with shaggy black fur and white gleaming eyes.

"Oh wow!" breathed Peter, in stunned amazement, gazing in awe at the hulking animal in front of him.

"Blimey," said James, his voice shaking, barely above a whisper. "Sirius ole pal, you did it! You got it."

Remus couldn't bring himself to speak. He was trembling from head to toe with excitement, and his mouth and throat had suddenly gone very dry. _Finally_. After months and months of hard work, of research and of information gathering. The hours and hours they had spent upon searching for ingredients and refining the potion, of deciphering the incantation in its long-lost language. The tumultuous roller-coaster of emotions, from moments of eager anticipation to those of bitter disappointment. It had finally worked. Animagi. He would no longer be alone during the full moon.

"Oh, let me try, let me try," squealed Peter, forgetting the doubts he had in his transfiguration abilities upon seeing Sirius's success.

"No, wait!" Remus jolted out of his speechlessness. "Let him transform back first, just in case. You want to be sure you can go both ways."

He turned to the colossal dog beside him, who was now scratching himself vigorously behind the ear.

"Er, Sirius, can you hear me?"

The dog stopped its scratching and looked up at him, wagging its tail.

"Do you understand us?" James asked it, rather uncertainly.

The dog gave a bark and cavorted around on the spot.

"I think that would be a yes," decided James, with a lopsided grin.

Remus surveyed the dog at their feet, at those big, fleshy, furry paws. "Well then, you furry padfooted pal, you," he said, clapping his hands together. "Care to change back for us?"

"Padfoot!" exclaimed James, as Sirius emerged in place of the dog. "That's it! There's your Marauder alias, mate," he said, thumping Sirius hard on the shoulder.

Sirius was grinning maniacally round at them. "Go on then," he urged James and Peter, "you try."

They didn't need telling twice. Snatching up the ladle, they each took a sip of the potion. Sirius joined Remus in chanting the incantation this time, and then, they held their breath. Perhaps it was because he knew what to look for this time, but Remus picked up the shimmer around James's and Peter's outlines sooner than he had with Sirius. As the iridescence gave way to a full blur, Remus saw the dark silhouette of Peter dwindle rapidly and sincerely hoped that Peter was doing alright, that he wouldn't vanish altogether. James's shadow, on the other hand, was growing with alarming alacrity. Remus braced himself that the clearing in the passageway would be sufficiently large enough to accommodate his transformed state.

"Well, he'd better not get stuck in that get-up is all I can say," muttered Sirius in his ear, nodding at the silhouette that was James's as he eyed both whirling shadows warily. "We'd never be able to get him outta here if that's the case." 

As the shimmering haze dissolved, Remus and Sirius looked up to face a majestic-looking stag, with glistening antlers protruding from its head. James's transformed state was so enormous, he had to kneel down, so as not to knock his antlers against the roof of the passageway.

"Oh my," gasped Remus, rather taken aback by the regal sight of his friend. A squeaking noise came from the corner, and turning round, Sirius and Remus caught sight of a rat, scurrying across the floor of the cavern.

"Peter!" said Sirius. He swung round to face Remus, his eyes positively radiant with happiness. "Oh Moony!" he cried, giving Remus a rib-crunching hug that left him gasping for air. "It worked! It has actually worked! We are finally Animagi! Do you know what that means?"

Remus nodded, still not trusting himself to speak, his eyes now suddenly over bright.

"Look at this," Sirius strode over to the stag lying down on the floor and ran his hands down along its antlers. "Prongs," he said softly. "And this," he leapt over to scoop up the rat, stroking it from its small furry head to its long, bald, rope-like tail. "Wormtail."

He bounded rapturously around the cavern, then on a whim, transformed into the gigantic, shaggy dog once more, and went up to Remus, pawing at him and giving him a wet lick on the nose.

"Down Padfoot, down," Remus laughed. Feeling himself grin rather stupidly, he said hoarsely to the three animals before him. "C'mon now, I want a celebratory hug from you lot after all this."

Instantaneously, the stag, the dog and the rat faded out to be replaced by three ecstatic-looking teenagers. As the four of them fell into a triumphant, jubilant hug, Remus had never felt so warm and utterly contented and proud as he did at that moment.

They made their way back to the common room, chattering exuberantly, walking as if on air. As they reached the Fat Lady, called out the password - "_Galloping Gargoyles_" - and climbed in through the portrait hole, a thought occurred to Remus. Without so much as a word except for a hastily uttered "wait", he dashed up the stone steps that led to the boys' dormitories, rummaged through James's trunk and dashed back down the stairs into the common room, a piece of parchment clutched in one hand, a quill and an inkpot in the other.

"Well, my fellow Marauders," he said in a low voice, looking round meaningfully at the other three, his eyes sparkling with mischief and glee, "I think I just thought of how to stamp our mark on this masterpiece of ours."

He settled down at a table nearby, with James, Sirius and Peter crowding round him. Touching his wand to the parchment, he muttered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Thin, wavering threads unravelled from the tip of his wand to all corners of the parchment, displaying the layout of Hogwarts Castle and its surroundings, details they have spent so long in tracking down (and there were sure to be yet more added in). Remus, however, paid no attention to the blueprint of castle appearing before him, nor to the numerous minute ink dots trickling up and down the corridors or pacing round offices and common rooms. He tapped the map again, and clearing his throat, said, 

"_Editio Artifex_." 

A small space appeared amid the lines and dots at the top of the map. Remus now dipped his quill into the Zonko's ink they had bought at Hogsmeade before the holidays. His hand hovered over the parchment as he pondered for a few moments, then carefully, in his neat, curly writing, he wrote—

Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs 

_Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers_

_Are proud to present_

_THE MARAUDER'S MAP_

"Brilliant!" James gave a low whistle. "Magical mischief-makers, I like that!"

Sirius held the map up in the air, examining the large, green letters, with its wet ink glistening on the parchment. "Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs," he whispered breathlessly. "That's us, Remus. Sixteen days more, the full moon. That's us."

* * *

For the first time in his life since he had gotten bitten, Remus found himself actually looking forward to the full moon, actually wanting it to arrive sooner. James, Sirius and Peter were getting very restless, and their lack of attention span was evident in class. Professor McGonagall became so infuriated by the incessant stream of snorts, heavy sighs, fidgeting and winks during her classes, she assigned the four of them two hours of additional homework for Thursday evening. Even the ordinarily agreeable Professor Flitwick began to keep a rather vigilant eye on the quartet during Charms.

"Knock it off, would you?" growled Remus under his breath, acutely aware of the fact that Professor Flitwick's eyes were boring into them. He gave Sirius, who had just made several noises sounding remarkably like a dog howling, a swift, sharp kick in the ankle. 

But no amount of extra homework, nor stern looks, could dampen their spirits. After all, their efforts poured into the Animagus project of three years had paid off. Along with their plan to relieve Remus of his isolation came the added bonus of a full night's adventures. Things couldn't be better. They just needed to endure two more weeks of mundane life before they could carry out the final, and most eagerly anticipated, part of the plan.

Remus had told them before about how to placate the Whomping Willow. A couple of evenings preceding the big night, the four of them slipped out into the grounds to where the tree stood, its branches thrashing wildly.

"Peter, you know what to do."

Peter nodded, slightly pale, glancing petrified at the formidable, swishing arms of the willow. He wavered out to be replaced by a rat, scuttled up to the tree trunk unscathed, and rested his paw on a knot in the centre. The tree stilled at once, its branches freezing in mid-action. Its roots contorted to reveal the opening to the passageway that led to the Shrieking Shack.

"Nice job," said James to the rat, a look of smug satisfaction plastered across his face. "We are all set then. You, Remus, will be coming here with Madam Pomfrey at sundown." He turned to Remus. "Can you transform in the passageway? Instead of the Shrieking Shack? It is big enough?"

Remus, thinking of the more spacious sections of the passageway before the roof gradually sunk down lower, nodded. 

"Good," James continued. "When the moon comes up, we," he indicated himself, Sirius and Peter (who had transformed back into himself), "will slip out of the castle using the Invisibility Cloak. We will transform, then Wormtail here will press that knot, open the entrance of the passageway to let you out, and," he gazed up into the night sky, his arms spread wide. "Welcome, Forbidden Forest."

Remus made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast two days later with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation in his stomach. On one hand, he couldn't wait to experience a full moon with the company of his best friends. It was a novelty to pass those nights devoid of loneliness. After nearly a decade of monthly seclusion, this was almost as good as finding a cure for the lycanthropy itself. But at the same time, a nagging bunch of voices at the back of his mind were pestering him with a multitude of "what if's". _What if we all got found out? What if the research contained in the books is wrong? What if werewolves are, in fact, not pacified by the presence of other animals? What if I manage to break away from my friends and found a human to bite? What if I bit my own friends?_

The last two thoughts caused his blood to run cold and he flailed visibly upon entering the dining area. He would _never ever_ forgive himself if he passed on his curse to anyone else, least of all to his best friends.

Remus was down early, and there was barely anyone else in the Great Hall. He sat down at the Gryffindor table, a little pale, frowning slightly as he helped himself to some bacon and eggs. His mind was whirring, searching for a way to best explain to his friends the fear he was harbouring. "_I am very sorry. I know you have worked so long and hard for this, and you are looking forward to tonight. I am too. So much! But I can't risk eating you lot up, or anyone else, for that matter._"

He had just constructed what he hoped was a firm, but polite, speech to tell the others when James, Sirius and Peter poured into the hall, grinning madly, eyes glittering. They darted down beside Remus, greeted him good morning with a heavy thump on the back, and sat down beside him, talking and laughing loudly. Remus exhaled a deep breath. He didn't have the heart (or mettle, rather) to tell them. Each time he went to open his mouth to voice his concerns, one of them would catch his eye and give him a huge wink and a thumbs-up, and he would smile weakly in return, sigh resignedly and go back to contemplating the situation in his own mind.

_The books have to be right,_ he told himself in as convincing a voice as he could muster. _They have been around for centuries. That werewolves don't harm animals is a fact, not a myth or an unresolved hypothesis. You won't be found out either. It's just one night out of a whole month. Animagi transformations are so complex and tightly regulated, no one would dream of three teenaged wizards even attempting it. And even if someone like Hagrid would catch sight of a stag, a dog and a rat in the Forbidden Forest, it wouldn't ever cross his mind they would be James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew._

He gave himself a determined shake. "Stop worrying," he told his conscience exasperatedly. "Honestly, you sound like a geriatric chicken."

"You seem awfully pensive, Moony," mentioned James quietly as the Gryffindor fifth years made their way out to the school grounds for Professor Kettleburn's class.

Remus mumbled a nearly inaudible, and very fake, reassurance that he was fine, but his friends were not fooled. 

"Worried you might bite us?" asked Sirius brashly, a teasing glint dancing in his eyes.

Hearing his worst fear voiced out loud so candidly made Remus go rigid and freeze in his footsteps. 

"You weren't really thinking of that, were you?" asked Sirius, serious now, his tone softer.

Remus swallowed hard, his mouth going very dry. "Actually, I was," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "What if I bit you– or someone else?"

"Who would be wandering around the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the night for you to bite?" asked Peter impatiently.

Remus suppressed the urge to snap back at him by telling him just about any student with a remote sense of adventure would, at least once, give the wandering a try. Instead, he just said, "Hagrid."

Sirius waved off his concern airily. "You might be having just that little bit too big an opinion of yourself, mate," he said, laughing. "Hagrid would have you for supper before you could do anything to him."

"Or he might decide to keep you as a pet and tame you," smirked Peter.

Observing Remus's baleful scowl with amusement, James said calmly, "stop fretting, Moony, you'll get wrinkles. If you decide to do anything objectionable tonight, Prongs here will just give you a toss with his antlers."

Remus couldn't help giving a laugh. Yes, of course. Prongs was large, and powerful, enough to keep a werewolf in check, and Padfoot wasn't what one would call slight either. He was just worrying over nothing.

As the day went on, excitement and expectations got the better of his nagging doubts, which have been banished to the very farthest depths of his mind. After enduring an arduously long and gruelling double lesson of Potions where Snape kept shooting daggers in their direction, irritated by their boisterous mood, Remus followed the others into the Great Hall for dinner, ignoring a particularly malevolent parting glare Snape gave him as they left the dungeons. _The guy probably doesn't know the meaning of the word "fun",_ he thought grimly to himself.  

Over dinner, the four of them behaved irrepressibly, exchanging knowing glances, smirks, hoots and kicks under the table. Lily Evans, sitting across the table from them, silenced them (although only briefly) with an icy stare as James's hard kick missed Sirius's ankle and hit her firmly in the shin instead. Remus hid his smile behind the chicken leg he was chewing on as James flushed pink and hastily pinned the blame on Sirius, who apologised profusely in a loud, excessive manner.

"Oh, I am _so_ sorry, miss. Really. Extremely sorry for that, there. I swear I had no intention of damaging that beautiful leg that is yours. Would you mind if I took a look? Maybe I could patch it up for you."

Lily shot him a venomous look of distaste, and as Sirius made to slip under the table to check out the shin, gave him a swift kick in the stomach.

"Oof!"

Beside Sirius, James's face appeared to be slowly turning a deep shade red with what Remus guessed to be a combination of mirth and mortification. He had his face practically immersed in his potato and leek soup, but Remus could see the tips of his ears reddening.

"So, we'll meet you at the Whomping Willow then," said James brightly, recovering from his unusual loss of suavity as Lily got up from the table and exited the hall with her faction of friends.

Remus nodded as he finished his second helping of apple crumble.

"Are you sure you don't want us to be with you when you transform?" asked Sirius.

"Yes," replied Remus resolutely, for what must have been the fifth time that week. He was eager to share the full moon adventures with his friends as a wolf, but the transformation itself, and those moments immediately preceding, and following from, it were, for him, intensely private. He didn't want anyone to see for themselves the brutality of the transformation, nor did he wish to share the emotional anguish he went through each time he fought to grasp onto the final shreds of his human mind. And if he was awake when the wolf in him receded at dawn, he did not wish for his friends to witness the putrid sense of self-loathing he had as he struggled to distance himself from the grips of the wolf.

Remus said goodbye to his friends at the table, reassured them he would remember he need not go to the Shrieking Shack, but will stay within the passageway, and disappeared off to meet Madam Pomfrey. They made their way down along the school grounds once more (there was no Quidditch practice this time) and with a prod of her stick, the nurse opened up the entrance into the Whomping Willow for Remus to go through, and then departed with her usual comment of coming back for him at daybreak.

Remus paced about the passageway until he felt the familiar tingling, stretching sensation. Only this time, the whole process, in mind and body, was less tortuous than all those experiences previously. With his mind focused on the thought of seeing his friends soon, the pain of the transformation was slightly thwarted by the surge of expectancy. As the wolf finally took over, Remus felt he was the closest he'd ever been to tolerating himself as a wolf.

The wolf lurked behind the entrance of the Whomping Willow, snarling. Its heightened sense of hearing picked up the pause in the Whomping Willow's thrashing branches. Moonlight then filtered into the tunnel where it stood. The wolf lifted its head and sniffed the air. It was clear, crisp and cool. It was _freedom_.

With a spring off its powerful hind legs, it leapt out of the tree, emitting a low, ferocious growl. For too many years, the wolf had been cooped up, shut away from any living contact, and now, it could finally hunt down what it lusted after.

Its head snapped up, ready to hurtle off towards the faint trace of human scent wafting over from the castle when it caught sight of a huge, bear-like dog stationed right by the entrance. The wolf sniffed, momentarily distracted. The scent was oddly familiar. It triggered something from within the depths of its mind. There was a movement in the shadows. It looked up, and there, looming up before him, was a stag shifting restlessly to the right of the dog. Scurrying around their legs and the roots of the Whomping Willow, was a rat. The wolf recognised the auras and the scents radiating from the three animals, and found it strangely calming. 

The Whomping Willow chose that moment to resume action and the wolf, the dog and the stag managed to dart away from the beating branches just in time to avoid getting hit. Still slightly edgy, the wolf sniffed at the three animals surrounding him once more. The odours, again, seemed to pacify him, and for the first time, the violent, wolfish mind inside of Remus tarnished slightly, allowing him to finally sense himself as a werewolf. 

The stag, dog and rat. Remus fought hard to extract the information from his memory. Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail. In effect, James, Sirius and Peter. His best friends. He was Moony, that's what they called him. He gave a slight wag of his tail, a soft bark, to indicate his recognition of them. Then, glancing back at the castle longingly for the briefest of moments, he turned and gambolled after Padfoot, who was making his way into the Forbidden Forest, while Prongs and Wormtail brought up the rear.

It was a fine night, the air was crisp and cool. The full moon hung still in the dark, velvety sky, casting a mild luminance over the school grounds, bar the occasional instances when it disappeared behind a stretch of clouds. Inside the Forbidden Forest however, it was pitch black. The trees, with their thick branches and leaves, formed a canopy, shielding from the terrain any moonlight that might penetrate through. The dynamism of the forest was magnified a hundred times by his wolfish senses. Remus could hear the patter of paws scurrying down in the burrows that ran as catacombs underground, and the sound of the birds and owls as they twittered and swooped through the air. The intense melange of aromas was intoxicating. Moony not only picked up odours of all the creatures that roamed the Forbidden Forest, but also the scent of fear as a prey fell captive to its predator; the feeling of cosiness as he caught sight of a pair of squirrels huddled together in a tree; the sense of aloofness the centaurs gave off as the wolf, the dog, the stag and the rat capered past the clearing where they stood, deep in discussion; and the ominous atmosphere surrounding the Acromatulas' den.

Moony savoured the discovery of the hidden treasures of the Forbidden Forest, brought about by his keen senses as he raced through the trees with Padfoot, but most of all, he relished in the new-found freedom, and his (even though faint) presence of mind. He observed Padfoot giddily prancing about in the undergrowth, occasionally coming to an unceremonious skid; Prongs, galloping majestically across a clearing; and Wormtail darting through the tree roots, or seated upon Prongs's antlers as they raced through the forest. He no longer felt the angst, nor the desperation, of the encaged wolf. He didn't experience the urge to break into a rage and bite himself or others. Instead, he felt the utter exhilaration of discovering the jewels of the Forbidden Forest with his friends, and the tranquillising effect they had on his mind provided by their mere presence.

As the moon made to disappear from the night sky, and a faint golden hue peeked over the horizon, the wolf, dog, stag and rat headed back to the Whomping Willow. Wormtail slipped under the swishing branches of the tree once more, and froze it by pressing the knot on its trunk. The wolf slunk down through the opening between the roots and back into the passageway. 

* * *

Remus was waiting by the Whomping Willow entrance when Madam Pomfrey came at sunrise to get him. She nodded approvingly when she saw that Remus did not have "one of those preposterously self-destructive nights" again. At the hospital wing, she handed Remus a huge bowl of steaming porridge, and then ushered him into bed.

Remus was thankful he could get the day off to rest. He was exhausted from running around the Forbidden Forest all night, and wondered how James, Sirius and Peter were coping in class. They didn't have the luxury of being pampered by Madam Pomfrey. Not that Remus wallowed in the fuss, as the school nurse had the tendency to get a bit too over-protective for Remus's liking, but it was better than having to focus on Potions and Arithmancy.

As he dropped off to sleep, Remus recalled an instance where he had been enticed by the temptation of human scent. His blood turned to ice in his veins. _He did not, surely he did not. He couldn't have._ He ran his tongue over his teeth fearfully, bracing himself for the bitter tang of blood, but tasted nothing. Trying to ease the pounding of his heart against his ribcage, he attempted to sort through his recollection of last night's events. He remembered the smell, there was the flicker of lust he had experienced as he had looked towards the castle. But he had been distracted. By— 

Padfoot! Yes, Padfoot had been there as the werewolf caught a whiff of human scent. As had Prongs and Wormtail. Relief pulsed through Remus as he lay under the covers, shaking from the unfounded shock. _It was close call_, his conscience throbbed, starting up again. _What if you did indeed dart off?_ No, he answered back petulantly. The presence of his friends had calmed him down. His mind was less wolfish, more human. The fact that he could recall events of the night was a huge step forward. In time, Remus was sure he would be able control his wolfish tendencies. Besides, Padfoot and Prongs were there to keep him in check, right? 

He continued to argue with himself as he fell asleep. It had been a wonderful night, which had left him in the most peaceful state of mind over the transformations that he had had in a long time. Surely his emotional and psychological state as a werewolf was important too? James, Sirius and Peter had also gotten a kick out of it. There was no harm done. Pure, delightful, wholesome, adventurous fun. What was there to worry about?

* * *

Remus had, once again, shunted his conscience to the back of his mind when James, Sirius and Peter appeared after dinner, looking a bit pale and drawn, but otherwise in superb spirits. 

"So, how did today go," asked Remus, though he had a fair idea of what it might have been judging from their appearance. 

"Fine," said Sirius offhandedly, at the same time as Peter stated baldly, "dire."

Remus raised an eyebrow at them, and waited patiently for them to elaborate.

"Well," Sirius conceded, "fine considering we had only about three hours' worth of sleep." 

 "We had a bit of a disaster in Potions," James began, running his fingers through his hair absently.

"Total disaster," corrected Sirius glumly. "Right in front of Snape. Our bloody potion went on fire before boiling over and splashed all over the dungeon floor," he explained as he saw Remus's questioning look.

"You set the dungeons on fire?" asked Remus, aghast. "How can a liquid go on fire anyway?"

"I, er, kinda dumped in a full bottle of alcohol thinking it was distilled Murtlap essence," confessed James. "And no, Sharkhorn managed to get rid of the fire almost straight away. He gave us both a 'D' though."

"Hardly surprising," commented Remus dryly. "What about you, Peter?"

"I was paired up with Snape," moaned Peter, pulling a face. "I'd much rather have had a potion blow up in my face, then to spend a double class partnering him!" 

Remus gave him a sympathetic look. "Sorry about that."

"Arithmancy went fine, we got extra homework from McGonagall again because we botched up the practical for today, and then fell asleep during History of Magic," James recounted.

"Well, that last bit's nothing new," said Remus, rolling his eyes upon hearing the day his friends had described. "I guess some days you just shouldn't get out of bed."

"Easy for you to say, Moony, you were in one all day," said James, yawning loudly. "Now if you will excuse me, I have a Quidditch practice to bungle up before I head off to mine."

James, Sirius and Peter looked more alert the following day when Remus was given the go-ahead to return to class. The day went smoothly, other than the unnerving feeling Remus had of being stared at. He caught sight of Severus Snape several times throughout the day, scrutinising him from afar, a look of hatred on his face. Remus shuddered. Snape would have figured it was the full moon a couple of nights before, and what Remus must have been then. Remus tried to shake off the distressing thought that Snape may leak his secret to the school. He would really be done for if that were the case. But Dumbledore had made Snape promise not to tell a single soul last year after he had found out about Remus. And no one dared defy the Headmaster. 

"What do you think he is up to?" A low menacing voice whispered in his ear, as he entered the Great Hall for dinner. 

Remus looked up to find Sirius shooting a disparaging look in Snape's direction. 

"I don't know," he answered, trying to sound unperturbed, hoping that his seeming indifference would douse Sirius's underlying urge to hex Snape from across the hall.

Sirius grunted as he sat himself down at the table. "It's amazing how a piece of vermin like that can even exist," he growled viciously as he continued to observe the smug, contemptuous demeanour Snape was emanating towards them. 

"Sirius, please," implored Remus. "Just ignore him. He would only get more odious if he sees you getting all worked up." 

At that moment, James and Peter joined up with them, and Sirius seemed to forget about Snape as James started telling them all about Derek Perry and his revised plans for the Gryffindor team to win the Quidditch Cup. 

Remus's thoughts travelled back to Snape. He still recalled the conversation he had overheard, and wondered how much of Snape's family problems have been alleviated. He almost felt sorry for the Slytherin, but just at that moment, Snape shot another repulsive glance at him, and any smidgen of pity Remus had vanished as soon as it had come.


	6. Que sera, sera

**Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling is the mastermind behind all of this. I get no riches, nor fame, for writing all this, so suing would be pointless.

**Author's Notes:**  The sixth in a collection of short stories detailing the Marauders' fifth year at Hogwarts, as told from Remus's POV. **__**

_Special note_: Throughout this fic, I have written James as a Chaser. This is following the information provided by J.K. Rowling herself in an interview conducted some time before OotP came out, instead of using that from the film where James was listed as a Seeker. It doesn't make a difference to this story, as the only title of his Quidditch position differs, but I would just like to clarify that before reviewers may think I got the Quidditch position of James Potter wrong.

**A Year in the Life of a Wizarding Werewolf**

**- Que sera, sera**

It would appear that time had acquired an entirely different pace over the new year. Upon their return to Hogwarts following the Christmas vacation, the weeks seemed to whip past at such a rate, the weekends were upon them before one had realised it was Monday. For the fifth and seventh year students, this meant that the vague acknowledgement harboured at the start of the year that they faced important end-of-the-year exams, were fast becoming a brutal and frenzied realisation.

Remus was feeling the (admittedly mostly self-inflicted) strain of the enormous piles of homework, the towering stacks of reading material and the vast amount of facts he had yet to commit to memory, but he wasn't feeling it nearly as much as Peter was. Peter could often be found hunching over reams of parchment on which copious notes were scrawled, seizing tufts of his hair as he struggled to memorise treaty dates and clauses, or differentiate between the uses of moonstone, boomslang skin and salamander liver. James and Sirius, however, remained in high spirits, annoyingly nonchalant about the forthcoming OWLs.

"It's not fair," moaned Peter to Remus one night, observing James and Sirius having a round of Quirky Quidditch with a mixture of envy and longing. Quirky Quidditch was an athlete's version of wizard chess the two of them had devised themselves, using James's model of the Quidditch pitch, whereby each player attempted to direct their own team of enchanted figurines to a match victory. "How come I am having so much trouble with all this work, while they go and play Quidditch and still know everything? I'm not really so hopeless, am I? 

"Of course not. James and Sirius _are_ the cleverest wizards in our year," Remus reminded him. "It's a pretty lofty standard for you to compare yourself to. Besides," he went on, gesturing around the room where numerous other Gryffindors were poring over thick textbooks, "they are more the exception. We are normal. I think you are doing really well," he added encouragingly.

"Charms is getting better, and Transfiguration," agreed Peter.

"There you go then."

"But Potions is dismal, and I'll never get my head round these dates for the History of Magic!" wailed Peter, his voice rising hysterically.

"Calmly does it," said Remus soothingly. "You never thought you'd ever get the hang of transfiguration, yet look at you now, an Animagus." He grinned. "Besides, you might not being doing Potions or the History of Magic for your NEWTs. Here," he handed Peter a box of sugar mice. "Have some of these to take your mind of those Hinkypunks for a while."

As if the concern of the impending examinations was not taxing enough, a notice appeared on the common room boards one morning, just prior to the Easter break.

_CAREERS ADVICE_

_All fifth-years are required to attend a brief session with their respective Head of House during the first week of the summer term to discuss their future careers and to receive advice on their selection of relevant NEWT subjects to be undertaken. Times of individual appointments are listed below._

"I haven't really given my future career much thought yet," moaned Gertrude.

"That's maybe the reason why we were given these, I'd say," said Karla, picking up a pamphlet from one of several bundles of neatly stacked leaflets and flyers on a table nearby. 

Remus cast his eye over the table, taking in the enthusiastic proclamations and alluring recruitment promises of various careers, flashing in the headings of the pamphlets. He _had_ given the subject much thought even as early as over the summer holidays. He and his mother both. And they found that being a werewolf caused Remus to come up against a brick wall more often than having a criminal track record. There were several career paths Remus would be interested in, but chances were, unless the Ministry of Magic appeased the clause against werewolves in employment, it would seem highly unlikely Remus found himself a job following his graduation from Hogwarts.  

"I wonder how it'd be like to work in the Department of Mysteries," Peter said, leafing through a pamphlet distributed by the Ministry of Magic. "It would be rather cool to be an Unspeakable, don't you think?"

"Um," replied Remus dully.

"C'mon," pressed Peter, his eyes still scanning the leaflet, oblivious to the resigned gloominess that had befallen his friend. "Given your ability to keep secrets and remain unruffled at all times, it would be perfect for you, no?"

Remus shrugged to no one in particular as Wormtail continued his reading of the requirements listed for the job of an Unspeakable. Peter took his silence as disinterest.

"Something else then? Don't tell me He-who-is-most-organised-and-picked-his-NEWT-classes-at-age-two hasn't given a thought about his career."

"I— " began Remus wearily, then stopped. He felt a little too drained to divulge in the problems he and his mother had encountered over the summer. "I don't believe that certain parts of my- my— personality would be compatible with employment at the Ministry," he finished quietly, but in a firm tone indicating he wished to discuss it no further.

It took Peter several seconds to digest what he had just said, before acknowledging the unspoken request understandingly. There was a mixture of pity and guilt in his eyes, as if he felt responsible for his friend's bleak predicament. _Of course he isn't_, Remus told himself. _No one's responsible. You can't blame people for being wary of employing a werewolf. It's an additional hazard they can do away with by employing the many others available for the job. You just have to cope with it. Be happy with what you do have, and then deal with the rest._

A soft, timid voice cut in through his thoughts. "Anyone would be losing out not employing you. Maybe you should get a job at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Then you can work to overturn the clause pertaining to discrimination against employment of werewolves."

Despite knowing laws and reinforcements were a lot more complicated and tightly regulated to be over-turned single-handedly, Remus couldn't help being extremely touched by Peter's idealistic suggestion.

* * *

Remus's appointment with Professor McGonagall was scheduled for Wednesday morning at half past ten. It meant missing Potions, which Remus was not at all sorry about, despite knowing he probably needed all the Potions time he could get if he hoped to pass the OWL reasonably well. 

In the week leading up to the advisory sessions, the fifth years engrossed themselves in trying to decide on careers that they may find suitable. This brought about the cold reality that they needed some rather extraordinary results in their NEWTS in two years' time if they wished to be involved in the more prestigious vocations such as Healing, or if they harboured hopes of working for the Ministry or becoming an Auror.

"Goodness, you need to get 'Exceeds Expectations' in just about everything if you want to work in St. Mungo's," exclaimed Caitlin, looking at the pamphlet bearing the crossed bone-and-wand emblem of the hospital.

"Not everything," said Lily, peering over her shoulder. "Just Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Nearly everything," Caitlin argued back. "And need I remind you that you need an 'E' or an 'O' in the OWLs just to _get_ into the NEWT classes for those subjects?"

"Um-hm," said Lily absently. "I would like to be a Healer though," she said, as she reached and picked up one of the leaflets for herself. 

Remus could almost see James's ears prick up at her sentence.

"Don't tell me you are even thinking of it," said Sirius in a low voice as he observed his friend's attention suddenly turning towards the St. Mungo's brochure. "Whatever happened to being a Chaser for the Chudley Cannons? Your hopes of giving them their first victory in, like, several centuries?"

James, fixing his gaze on Lily, allowed the playful jibe at his favourite Quidditch team to float over his head before replying vaguely, "I can do both, you think?"

Peter snorted. "In your dreams, mate. Have you seen the hours those Healers work? You'd need a Time Turner to do both." He stopped abruptly, hoping he hadn't planted any ideas into James's head.

He breathed a sigh of relief as James turned to them and grinned, saying, "Maybe she can be a Healer for the Chudley Cannons. I wouldn't mind getting injured if it means being cared for by her."

Remus groaned, shaking his head in his hands. Sirius rolled his eyes and changed the subject. 

"What about being an Auror? It says here you need three extra years of training and examinations before you can even get started on the job. You need five NEWTs of an 'E' standard before they even think of letting you in for training."

 "You would get that no problem," said Peter enviously, but not without a tinge of bitterness showing through. "Unlike some of us," he muttered in a low voice.

Remus wrapped his arms round Peter's shoulder, giving him a supportive hug. 

"Yeah, I guess," said Sirius casually, unaware of the underlying tone in Peter's voice, nor catching the low utter at the end. "What about you, Wormtail? What were you thinking of?"

Peter shrugged indifferently. "Dunno. Everything requires so much. Everything I would be interested in, I mean." 

"So?" asked Sirius. "What's there to stop you?"

"Just barely managing to scrape an 'A' in Potions and History of Magic for one thing!" Peter replied shortly.

"You've still got a couple of months to pull up that grade," said Remus gently. He could see that Peter was getting agitated and surmised that it was not only the high qualifications required, but also late nights and seemingly unending conveyer belt of homework that was contributing to Wormtail's snappish behaviour. 

"Yeah," said James, turning round to face Peter. "Stop admitting defeat before you even begin the battle. It's all up here," he said, tapping him on the head. "You need to believe in yourself more, Wormtail. You can do it. If you want anything, _really_ want anything, badly enough, you will get it. Look, I'll help you with Potions," he offered. "And Remus here will lend you those History of Magic notes from class, right Moony?"

As the appointed sessions with Professor McGonagall went in alphabetical order, Sirius was the first of the four to meet with her to discuss his future. He disappeared through the backdoor of the greenhouses partway through Herbology on the Monday afternoon, and made his way up towards the castle for his appointment. The others didn't hear from him until dinnertime when they caught up with him in the Gryffindor common room where they had gone off to put down their bags before proceeding to the Great Hall. 

"So, how was it?" asked Peter, depositing his satchel by the table they always used for their homework.

"It went okay. She gave me a lecture about closing doors quietly first of all, because I kinda slammed the door shut as I went in," said Sirius, setting down a couple of brochures that Professor McGonagall had given him on the table. "By accident," he added quickly. "Anyway, she just tells you what you need to take for your NEWTs and what grades you need in those. Also what you need to get in your OWLs before they let you into the NEWT classes here."

Remus offhandedly picked up the leaflets Sirius had just placed down.

"What did you tell her you wanted to do?" Peter went on, wanting to ascertain the course of the interview so he could figure out how to best prepare for it.

"Well, first of all, I told her I wanted to give everything a try. Just for the sake of experiencing it all. Actually, I seriously wouldn't mind that. You got a life, live it. But she just gave me one of those looks that she has."

"I wonder why," Peter quipped, as Sirius went on.

"She wasn't amused with my saying I wanted to work in the Department of Regulation and Misuse of Muggle Artefacts either. At least not after I let slip I wanted to enchant motorcycles to fly across the sky in place of broomsticks."

"How utterly unreasonable of her," said Remus, his tone deadpan, as he skimmed through the leaflet he was holding. "Hey!" Impassiveness gone, he seized Sirius in the elbow as he spotted something circled in red ink. "I never realised you were that interested in becoming an Auror!"

"Well, I am," replied Sirius, a steadfast glow now evident in his eyes. "I want to _do_ something Moony, something meaningful and beneficial that will be of use to people," he said vehemently. "And what more than a career in catching dark wizards and criminals? Especially with this Dark Lord, Voldemort, on the rise. If he is really the Muggle, half-breed hater he is claimed to be, I want rid of him. This whole bigoted Muggle-born intolerance is a cauldron of bullshit! We are never going to get anywhere with this crap going on. The sooner we rid of it, the better."

There was a stunned silence. Remus had often witnessed heated outbursts from Sirius before, but they had never been anything more than venting about the slimeball Snape or the pretentious Black family. He had never seen Sirius so wholly impassioned and solemn over any matter. 

James raised his eyebrows. "You do realise that even if you capture this Voldemort guy, that there will always be others coming up to fill the void?"

"And you also realise that people, and especially those in politics, aren't always divided into Aurors and dark wizards?" asked Remus.

"I know," said Sirius, as a pained expression clouded his face. "But I can't not do something. Especially if I am not allowed to fly enchanted Muggle motorcycles." He gave them a feeble grin. "If this Dark Lord is indeed gathering his minions, I want to be around to thwart his intentions. Be the next Mad-Eye."

This time, it was Peter who raised his eyebrows, but before he could say anything, Sirius plundered on, ignoring the rather taken-aback, yet awed, expressions of his friends.

"And you know what? You know those History of Magic notes you lent me, Moony? You know what they say? They say the wrong people are captured _all the time_!" Remus nodded in grave silence. "They say that very often, completely innocent people are captured and imprisoned _without trial_, while the guilty ones roam free. That is so completely unacceptable!"

"You really think you can change all that?" asked Peter tentatively, with a hint of astonishment coming through. "It is the whole justice system you are talking of fighting against!"

"You have to start somewhere," contended Sirius, in the same ardent tone. "The Aurors are those who do the capturing. They should have some responsibility over whom they catch. It is a man's life you are talking about being allowed to waste away. Can you imagine an entirely innocent man being sent away to Azkaban? To have to face those Dementors? To have every smidgen of happiness drained away, and eventually have his soul sucked out of him?"

A cold zephyr seemed to sweep across and chill the room. Remus shuddered. 

"That'd be dreadful," agreed Peter in a faint whisper, echoing what was on Remus's mind.

There was a contemplative silence. Then James cleared his throat. 

"I get where you are coming from, Padfoot ole pal, I really do," he began in what he would hope to be an ingenuous voice. "But don't you think that is a bit too naïve?"

"Yeah," sighed Sirius, looking down at his palms. "McGonagall told me I was 'being this exuberant, ambitious teenager whose idealistic dreams are not going to be fully plausible in an avaricious adult world'. She was fine with the me wanting to be an Auror part. She just told me not to get my hopes up for the extermination of dark wizards, and the complete reassessment of the jurisdiction system. At least not in this lifetime."

"McGonagall's right, mate," said James, after an awkward silence. "All's not fair in politics and war." 

"But the world really should have more people like you," added Remus, as they headed out of the portrait hole and towards the Great Hall.

After dinner, the four of them converged round the table where they had left their schoolbags earlier on, and settled down to start on their homework. They must have worked solidly for a couple of hours when James shifted about restlessly and started to rock precariously back and forth on the chair's legs. 

"I'm bored," he announced, and whipped out his wand from the folds of his robes. "_Glimmerondus_!" he said, giving his wand a twirl. 

A cloud of shimmering specks of coloured light materialised and swirled round to form a small globe in midair.

"Cool!" laughed Sirius. "Here, let me." 

He pulled out his own wand and steadily directed it to the ceiling of the common room, as the other Gryffindors who were gathered in the room looked on in amusement. Then, whipping his wand in a whirling motion with his wrist, he Magicked the Glitterball to rotate on its own axis from its position in the middle of the ceiling. Multi-coloured lights spun around the common room as several people whooped in delight. Padraig O'Connor pulled Jean Talbert to her feet and started doing a foxtrot with her in the middle of the room, eliciting more squeals of merriment from the rest. Sirius cheered and waved his wand about recklessly, forgetting for the moment he was controlling the Glitterball with it. The ball began to spin wildly out of control, then zoomed crazily around the common room as people dodged behind armchairs and ducked under tables, shrieking, in an attempt to avoid a collision with the rogue Glitterball. Cursing under his breath, Sirius scrambled out from between two bookcases, his wand raised in readiness to freeze the Glitterball.

"_Impedi_-"

He was drowned out by another voice emanating from the other end of the common room. 

"_Disparatu_!" 

A jet of blue light shot across the room and hit the Glitterball just before it could crash into the leg of the table upon which stacks of Remus's books and parchments were piled several feet high. A burst of multi-coloured sparks sizzled in the air before scattering as dust onto the rug spread across on the common room floor. 

A hush immediately replaced the previous riotous atmosphere in the room. Stood at the portrait hole of the Gryffindor common room was a stoned-faced Lily Evans, who appeared to have just returned from the library, her bag crammed full to bursting with heavy textbooks. 

"_What_ was that?" she asked, cantankerously.

"A Glitterball," replied James, sitting up straight in his chair and fiddling around with his robes rather self-consciously. "You conjure one up, see, and swirl it around. It then causes multi-coloured shimmery lights to revolve round the room. It really is very cool, you know," he added, as Lily cast him a withering look.

"It wasn't done very well then, was it," she commented acidly. "What I saw was far from being a swirling ball of shimmering multi-coloured lights."

"It _was _working!" cried Sirius defensively.

"So was the Titanic," Lily retorted cuttingly. "If I could, I would be deducting five points off Gryffindor for this. You could have destroyed that table with all the books and homework!"

Sirius gave an indignant huff, crossed his arms in front of his chest and sunk down sulkily in his chair. "So was the Titanic," he mimicked tetchily as Lily joined Karla Dobbyn and Caitlyn Orr by the fireside. "What's the bloody Titanic anyway?"

"It's a Muggle ship," replied Remus, secretly marvelling at the remark his fellow prefect had made. "A really famous one. Probably the most famous one of the lot."

"Really?" asked Sirius. "Why? For being the fastest or something?"  
"For sinking."

"Oh."

"How do you know all this Muggle stuff anyway?" asked Peter. "You are like the walking encyclopaedia of Muggle information."

"I read. And absorb," answered Remus serenely.

Wednesday morning, Remus parted ways with the others as they turned down the corridor that led to the dungeons, and hurried off to fulfil his appointment with Professor McGonagall. 

"Come in," her crisp voice sounded through the closed door.

Remus nervously pushed the heavy door open and slipped in quietly. Then, recalling Sirius's experience on Monday, grasped onto the door handle on the inside of room to avoid the door banging shut noisily.

Professor McGonagall observed him closing the door gently and sniffed. "At least I see you are taking lessons from Mr Black," she said, gesturing to an empty seat positioned across from her table. "Sit down, Lupin."

Remus sat down, trying to quell his nervousness by focusing his eyes on the pamphlets that littered the Professor's desk and gripping his thumbs to prevent his hands from shaking. He wasn't sure if Professor McGonagall could see past his usually quiet, assiduous manner he displayed in class and glimpse the uncertainties he had of his future. If she didn't, he wasn't sure of how to even broach the topic with her should she ask him about his thoughts on the matter.

"Well," began Professor McGonagall briskly, "you know this meeting is to discuss any career ideas you might have, and to assist you in deciding which subjects you should choose to continue with for your NEWTs."

Remus nodded. 

"Have you considered what you might like to do when you have finished school?"

Remus swallowed hard and tried to clear his throat. "Er," he began, feeling at odds as to how to begin stating potential problems he might encounter with his job searching. He squirmed uncomfortably as Professor McGonagall studied him intently for several long moments. When she spoke, her tone of voice was a lot unlike what Remus was used to. Instead of its usual crispness and sternness, it was almost soft and understanding.

"I doubt if I need to perhaps tell you that you might come across some- some- difficulties – when applying for certain jobs that may be on offer?" she asked quietly.

Remus glanced at her quickly, before giving a half-shrug in an effort to appear less pessimistic about the topic.

"Well, it's a bit more, er, complicated, than what some others may have to face," he admitted finally, after another awkward lull. "But I expected that," he added hurriedly, a little bit more loudly, and sounding (unintentionally) bordering on defiant. "I mean," he went on, lowering his voice, realising how he must have come across, "I didn't expect me to have it easy applying for jobs, Professor."

Professor McGonagall continued to survey him through her square-rimmed spectacles before nodding curtly. "I did figure that you would know," she said, half to herself. "Well," she went on, in a louder, brisker voice that sounded more like her usual tone, "just because some employers may place restrictions on their choices for employees doesn't mean you can't give it your best shot. Have you given any thoughts as to what you would be interested in, personal problem aside?"

Remus drew a deep breath. He had, of course, given his future a lot of thought. But all his career aspirations did sound so improbable, he didn't wish for Professor McGonagall to either state outright to him with certitude that it was not feasible, nor did he wish for her to inwardly sigh regretfully and pity him for not ever receiving the chance to develop a career.

"Well," prompted Professor McGonagall, as she waited for Remus to gather his thoughts.

"I- I did think of wanting to be Healer," Remus blurted out. "But," he went on, before Professor McGonagall could reach out for the pamphlet with the bone-and-wand emblem, "they need an Exceeds Expectations in five NEWTs including Potions. And I doubt if I would be able to obtain that."

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips thoughtfully. "True, you have always seemed to struggle with Potions, Lupin," she mused, as she pulled out a piece of parchment containing some notes in what Remus recognised as Professor Sharkhorn's handwriting. She didn't say so, but Remus was quite positive that she was also thinking that St Mungo's would hardly hire a werewolf to look after its patients.

"Have you thought about working within the Ministry?" she asked.

"Yes, Professor," answered Remus. "But I doubt if they would be open to hiring a wer – someone like me – to work for them either. I had considered working in the Department of Mysteries, or as an Auror…" he trailed off. 

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow at the mention of the word 'Auror'. "I see," she said, still gazing intently at Remus. "Mr Black too, seemed highly keen in pursuing a career in the Auror department. Though I guess you would know yourself already. He was unusually adamant about enforcing the rights of _all_ wizards," she placed emphasis on the word 'all', and then gave Remus the briefest of shrewd smiles. "You have some good friends, Lupin."

Remus returned the Professor's smile and said stoutly. "Yes, I know."

"I suppose we'd better get on with our discussion," Professor McGonagall's voice returned once more to its brusque, curt tone. "I suppose given that your circumstances are more – unusual, it might be better if you pick a more diverse, and well-rounded set of subjects for your NEWTs." She pulled out a sheet of parchment on which all the subjects Hogwarts offered were listed. "Hmmm," she said as her eyes flickered up and down the page. "You should probably keep up Transfiguration, it is a subject which is required for many careers. You should know that I only accept students who have achieved Exceeds Expectations or higher in their OWLs for my NEWT classes. You are averaging between Acceptable and that, so I should say just a little bit more work should do it. Charms is always useful. I see Professor Flitwick has consistently given you an 'E' so I gather you would fare well in obtaining a place in his class next year as well." 

Her eyes continued to scan down the sheet of parchment. "Defence Against the Dark Arts, you have an aptitude for. I see Professor Quirrell has been awarding you with Outstanding for the most part. That would be a subject you would be keen to keep up, correct?" 

Remus nodded at once. It was a subject he had never had the intention to drop. 

"Arithmancy, useful if you wish to develop a career in banking. Gringott's does offer some package deals for employees that can be quite appealing."

Remus bit his lip slightly and tried to bar himself from shrugging indifferently. He wasn't _that_ fanatical about working in a bank, but it might become an option. And being a werewolf, those were few and far between, so he had to stop being too fastidious. He didn't want to appear rude or unappreciative in front of Professor McGonagall, who was doing her best to work round his lycanthropy as she considered the career choices that might be open to him.

"And there's Potions," finished Professor McGonagall, looking up from the parchment.

Remus paled slightly and froze. "B- but," he stuttered, "I barely scrape an 'A' in Potions, no matter how hard I try. And Professor Sharkhorn demands at least— " 

"An 'E' for his NEWTs classes," finished Professor McGonagall. "I know, Lupin. We just have to try a little harder, don't we? Potions is quite a handy subject to have a NEWT qualification in for many career paths. I think it best you aim to take it, especially considering how we need to keep your options as open as possible in case one of your career choices happens to fall through."

Remus nodded once more. He was beginning to feel like one of those Muggle figurines which had a spring for its neck, so its head would bobble around jerkily each time it was being jolted. He swallowed and mumbled a quick word of thanks. 

Professor McGonagall stood up and walked round her table to the door. She observed him for a few moments before opening the door for Remus to go through.

"Well, Lupin. We shall go with the career as either an Unspeakable or an Auror for now, as you expressed your wish to pursue a career in those areas. But we will also keep in mind to have the options open for other areas should these two choices not work out," she said, as she pointed him the way out of her office.

Peter and James had their advice sessions following each other in the afternoon, so that evening, Remus, James, Sirius and Peter assembled by the fire, which was burning merrily in the common room, to discuss what had been said. 

"So what did she say to you, Moony," asked Sirius, settling himself next to the crackling flames. 

"Just that I was to take as diverse a selection of subjects as possible for the NEWTs so I can keep my options open." Remus replied. "Just in case the plan of training as an Unspeakable or as an Auror falls through."

"I could see she came close to rolling her eyes when I told her all I wanted to do was to play Quidditch for the Chudley Cannons," grinned James. 

"Did she suggest anything else to you?" asked Peter. 

"She tried," said James. "She suggested working for the Ministry of Magic, working in the Wizengamot even, since she thinks I have the brains for it, but I simply insisted on Quidditch, Quidditch, Quidditch."

Remus couldn't help smiling, knowing how stubborn James could get if he set his mind on something, especially if the something involved a sport on broomsticks encompassing fourteen players, six hoops, four balls and seven hundred fouls; all of which took place fifty feet up in the air.

"Then she said 'What if you get injured and can't play anymore?' so I reassured her that I could always coach. Like Madam Hooch." 

"Very true," said Sirius. But Remus wondered how effective a coach James would be. He didn't appear to have the patience a coach would need to train a Quidditch team. He often got irritated by others should they require a longer time to grasp an idea or technique (which was often). But then, Remus mused, James may well remain on the Chudley Cannons team for a fairly long period of time. A career-ending injury was only the worst-case scenario, and by the time James would retire as an active athlete, he may well have acquired enough patience to act as a coach.

"What about you then, Wormtail? What was planned for you?" James asked after he'd finished talking about his Quidditch aspirations.

Peter looked almost as impassive as Remus did when Professor McGonagall had mentioned banking to him. 

"Nothing much," he said. "I suggested I may want to open a sweet shop in Diagon Alley. You know, much like Honeydukes."

"Oooh," gasped James, his eyes opening wide. "Will we be getting free sugar quills and Fudge Flies then? C'mon, we'll even help you stock up, or mop the floor or something." 

Peter grinned at his reaction, as Sirius prodded him. "So, did you or her suggest anything else?"

"Hmmm, there was, kinda, something else, I guess," Peter mumbled, barely opening his lips so the words came out quite muffled. 

"Yes?" prompted James.

"Ah kinda shuddesded minisderoffffmadic." He spoke rapidly, slurring his garbled words together in an attempt to get it out with minimal impact.

"You kind of wha—?" questioned Remus, trying to figure out what Peter had just muttered.

"Did you just say Minister of Magic?" asked James slowly, after a few seconds' pondering. 

Peter's cheeks, already flushed from sitting so close to the fire, brightened even more. 

"You did?" squealed Sirius, catching Peter's embarrassed look. "Lofty!"

"Ambitious!" added James, giving a low whistle.

"Wow," Remus breathed. He would never have thought of that himself.

"How are you gonna set about getting up there?" demanded Sirius. 

"Yeah, where do you start off in? Somewhere within the Ministry I guess?" 

"Then you work your way up from there, right?" 

"What did McGonagall say about this?"

"Imagine you, Minister of Magic!"

"The most influential man in the country!"

"Or world even. One of the most influential anyway."

"Hey, you can help Sirius change those jurisdictional rules then!"

"I still can't believe this!"

Meanwhile, Peter was sitting on a cushion on the hearth beside the fireplace, blushing furiously as he listened to the cascade of shocked and surprised comments coming his way. 

"Please keep it down," he begged after a particularly shrill exclamation from Sirius. "It probably won't go anywhere. I mean, it's just a thought. I probably would just end up as an assistant's assistant in one of the many departments within the Ministry."

"Don't be silly," said James gruffly, "You won't be the Minister right away, but you wouldn't be stuck assisting secretaries either."

"Hey, what do you think ole Snivellus would be going into?" asked Sirius, after about half an hour of studying yet more brochures by the fire."

"Who cares?" scoffed James, "so long it isn't where I am ending up." 

Peter sniggered softly. "He's probably going into the Dark Arts, by the looks of him. Did you see the pile of books he checked out over Easter at the library?" The others shook their heads. "They were all about the dark arts. Hexes, jinxes, the Unforgivable Curses, dark creatures, even the history of Azkaban."

James gave a low whistle. 

"He also had this huge book on the rise and fall of Grindelwald," added Peter, recalling the fact a few moments later.

"Not surprised, are you?" muttered Sirius darkly. "Maybe I would end up capturing Snape as an Auror." His eyes glinted at the thought. 

Something Peter had said sparked off a memory within the depths of Remus's mind. What was it he had heard? Oh yes, of course.

"What is a Death Eater?" he asked, without thinking, as he voiced his ruminations out loud.

"Death Eater?" repeated James, looking confused. "Never heard of them."

Sirius frowned. "How did you hear about them, Moony?" he demanded.

"Oh nothing," said Remus hastily. "Just – er, nothing," he mumbled.

Sirius eyed him suspiciously, and eventually Remus relented. "Well," he hesitated, debating whether to spill the beans or not, and finally deciding it wouldn't do too much harm. "I was in the hospital wing after the full moon before Christmas when I overheard Noirforre talking about Snape's mother being a Death Eater."

He shrugged, in an effort to brush it off as a trifling fact. "I'm sure it's nothing," he said, trying to dismiss it casually.

"It's not nothing," Sirius's voice was hard now. "A Death Eater is a Voldemort supporter, one of his devoted minions," he whispered fiercely, disgust smouldering just below the surface. "I caught snatches of them being mentioned at home over Christmas. Regulus was talking about them with Mum and Dad, sounded darned keen to join them." 

Sirius nearly spat into the fire in his zealous disgust. Sirius so very seldom acknowledged his brother's existence that Remus often forgot Regulus Black was a second-year Slytherin in the very same school. 

"So you think Snape— " piped up Peter timidly.

"Will be right there," finished Sirius grimly. "Mark my words, he will follow his mother into the cult. Good luck to them." 

Later on that night, when most of the Gryffindors, including James and Sirius, were drifting up to the dormitories to get ready for bed, Peter turned to Remus, asking rather worriedly.

"Do you think I was being over-ambitious about the Minister tonight?"

Remus had to admit to himself that he _had_ been very surprised at the revelation, as were, he was sure, James and Sirius, but he kept that to himself. Instead, he said, 

"No, not over-ambitious. Just— " he cast round for an appropriate word. "Unusual," he finished. "But unusual is good," he added hurriedly, seeing the increasingly anxious look on Peter's face. "It would be too boring if everyone was a Healer or an Auror, right?"

Peter remained silent until they too, stood up from their seats by the dying fire and made their way to the entrance leading up to the dormitories.

"It just seemed as if everyone was so incredulous," he continued.

"Well," Remus wondered where this was leading to.

"Like no one would expect me to be able to become the Minister!" said Peter, a little crossly now. "Why not?"

"Er— " 

"James wants to be an internationally renowned Quidditch player," Peter hammered on, ignoring Remus's hesitation (much to his relief, he had been fearing Peter would be wanting an answer). "Sirius wants to be the successor to the legendary Mad-Eye, why would it be so impossible I wouldn't harbour some sort of expectations of myself too?"

"I don't think they thought you wouldn't have high expectations of yourself," explained Remus. "It's not everyday you learn one of your best friends can become the Minister. It can be a bit – mind-blowing."

"They probably think I am not that capable of it," said Peter sulkily. "Maybe you do too!"

"Don't be silly," said Remus at once. "Of course we don't think that."

"You think I will be the Minister someday then?" demanded Peter.

"I think anyone who wishes to certainly has the chances to become one," said Remus, selecting his words carefully. "Of course, not everyone who wants to be can be. Look at Barty Crouch. He's what? Shunted to the Department of International Magical Co-operation now?  But he still has a respectable job."

"So you really do think I have a chance?"

"You never know until you try," said Remus. "And it doesn't hurt having an ambitious goal, unless you are trying to destroy the world with it or something. Sometimes you should shoot for the moon, so even if you miss, you'll land among the stars."

"Shoot for the moon, and even if you miss, you'll land among the stars." Peter repeated. "It's sound advice."

"It's what my mother keeps telling me, so I'll bet it is." 

Remus smiled into his cocoon of pillows and quilts as he heard a creak telling him Peter had just climbed into bed himself. It was rather ironic to advise a werewolf to shoot for the moon, but Remus got the gist of his mother's advice, and it often encouraged the rather reluctant side of him to seek out what he rightfully deserved. 


	7. The Year Wraps Up

Many thanks to Jobey/Green Eyed Lady for letting me borrow Mavis Townshed. For anyone interested in reading more about Mavis, and her exchanges with Remus and his mother, by all means please check out Jobey's original work "The Reluctant Diaries: Remus J Lupin".

**Disclaimer: **Everyone and everything here belongs to the Grand Sorceress of the Wizengamot, J.K. Rowling, Order of Merlin, Ultimate Class. Except for Mavis, who belongs to Chief Mugwump,  Jobey. 

**Author's Notes:**  The seventh in a collection of short stories detailing the Marauders' fifth year at Hogwarts, as told from Remus's POV. The Snape scene is based entirely on what Harry saw in Snape's Pensieve in OotP (Chapter 28, Snape's Worst Memory). Apologies for borrowing a lot of the dialogue directly from that scene, but I feel strongly about retaining the authenticity of JKR's created history. **_This was not intended to be an act of plagerism._**

**A Year in the Life of a Wizarding Werewolf**

**- The Year Wraps Up**

Peter's slight perturbation at James and Sirius dissipated soon afterwards. He didn't bring up the subject again, and the others didn't press him about it, but they did regard him with a certain amount of increased respect.

Remus, for his part, was studying more diligently than ever following his careers session with Professor McGonagall, striving to get into the multitude of NEWT classes the professor had advised him to aim for.

Towards the end of term however, at the beginning of June, the school's focus temporarily transferred from study halls to the Quidditch pitch as the day of the Quidditch Cup final drew near. Gryffindor was to, once again, play against their long-time sparring rivals, the Slytherins. It seemed to Remus that the two houses always inevitably wound up battling it out for the ultimate prize on the Hogwarts sporting calendar.

The morning of the match dawned bright and clear. Remus could glimpse a faint glimmer of morning sunlight leaking in through the gap in the curtains where he had haphazardly pulled them shut the previous night, casting its radiance across his quilt.

He threw back his covers, and pushed himself up on the bed, reaching his arm out to drag the curtains back. Sunlight was streaming in through the window. There wasn't a cloud to be seen in the sky. It would likely be scorching by the time the match commenced. And there, sitting on the window sill, still clad in his rumpled pyjamas which were decorated with broomsticks, Quaffles, Bludgers and Snitches (the Quidditch theme being one of Remus's most prized handiwork), was James, his hair more tousled than ever, gazing out the window towards the Quidditch pitch.

"Nervous?" asked Remus quietly, as James turned his head slightly to nod 'good morning'.

James shook his head. "You know I never am," he stated calmly, turning back towards the pitch.

That was true. Except…

"Unless it is Lily?" Remus suggested slyly.

Yes, he could be an old fox sometimes. James swivelled around a little too quickly to feign being blasé. 

"She _is_ going to be there, you know," continued Remus benignly, much enjoying James's uncharacteristic flap at the mention of Miss Evans. "She follows the Quidditch as avidly as any one of us."

James nodded. You would never have guessed Lily Evans was Muggle-born, the way she whole-heartedly immersed herself into the wizarding world the moment she entered Hogwarts at age eleven. The only occasions that gave her heritage away were the odd slips where she would lapse into using Muggle references. Such as that Titanic quip a few weeks back. 

"You are not in the least bit anxious, then?" Remus prodded as he got out of bed to join James by the window.

"I believe I can concentrate on the Quaffle instead of a female for several hours, yes." James replied coolly, regaining his slickness.

Breakfast that morning in the Great Hall was a rowdy affair. Three of the four long, mahogany tables which ran the length of the Great Hall were filled up with students decked out in scarlet and gold. Only a lone table down one side of the Hall was wreathed in emerald and silver banners. Over the din of clinking cutlery, sloshing of pumpkin juice and the occasional crash of a plate to the floor, there were hollers of "Gryffindor rules!" or "Lions for the Cup!" ringing through the Hall. The Slytherins, their faces a combination of superior sneers, sullen stares and malicious scowls, sat in mute silence at their table, distancing themselves disdainfully from the hedonistic behaviour surrounding them. Up at the teacher's table, Professor McGonagall and Professor Noirforre were cogently civil at best, with an animated Professor Flitwick and a cheerful Professor Dumbledore stationed between them keeping up a lively conversation in hopes of dissuading the frosty atmosphere between the two Heads of House.

After a rushed breakfast, the Gryffindor team rose to leave for the locker rooms down by the Quiddich pitch, while several people from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff went up to them to wish them luck, much to Professor Noirforre's displeasure. James gave Sirius, Remus and Peter a departing wink and left with the rest of the team.

The rest of the students filed out of the Entrance Hall towards the Quidditch pitch half an hour later, placing various bets on matters concerning the number of goals by each team, the person who scores them, who'd get walloped by a Bludger, who'd catch the Snitch, and of course, the all consuming question surrounding which team would be crowned the champions.

As the crowds pored into the bleachers by the pitch, Remus, Sirius and Peter slipped into the benches along the front row down by the entrance where the athletes marched onto the pitch from the locker rooms. Sirius was to be the commentator for the match this day, as Michael Swiggler, the resident announcer had mysteriously come down with a highly unusual form of laryngitis following an encounter with a knot of Slytherins along the third floor corridor. The bunch, which consisted of Severus Snape, Frederick Goyle, Theodore Nott, Artemis Slickwit and Darwig Crabbe, had claimed that they had been on the receiving end of unprovoked taunts against Team Serpent from the Hufflepuff, and consequentially they had merely acted in self-defence ('for our hearing and sanity and most importantly, the honour of our House, sir!'). Remus, however, wondered if hexing Michael Swiggler only to be replaced by Sirius Black was such a good notion for the Slytherins after all.

The clang of the bell sounded, and to tumultuous cheers and applause, the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams marched out onto the pitch, their faces set, determination lining their mouths. There was no love lost between the two houses, and they were probably going to be in for a blood-lusting fight, no holds barred.

Madam Hooch was hovering between the two opposing teams on her broomstick, studying her Time-Stopper.

"Perry, Rosier. Shake hands."

Edgar Rosier glowered threateningly as he crushed Derek Perry's hand. 

"On your brooms – three, two, one— "

"And they're OFF!" hollered Sirius, his voice filling the entire stadium with ease, courtesy of the Sonorus charm he had performed on himself.

"Gryffindor team members: Perry, O'Connor, Potter, Talbert, Dobbyn, Jenkins and Orr, versus the Slytherins: Rosier, Avery, Staunton, Lestrange, Bulstrode, Parkinson, aaaaaand Wilkins!"

The pace of the match picked up at an alarming rate, with the Quaffle exchanging hands between the two teams constantly. Remus, squinting against the sunlight as he tried to follow the progression of the match was thankful he could keep track of the situation through Sirius's exuberant commentary.

"First goal of the match!" roared Sirius, leaping up and down the bench he was standing on. "It's Talbert, Jean Talbert of Gryffindor who scores! Ten-nil to Gryffindor!"

A humungous cheer rose up from the three sections along the stadium where red and gold banners were waving and where the crowds were decked out in Gryffindor rosettes.

"And the Quaffle is back in possession again. Avery of Slytherin is zooming down the pitch, he passes it on to Staunton. Wait, no. Potter of Gryffindor intercepts it. Potter heading down to the Slytherin goalposts… He shoots… Argh! Close! But saved by Rosier. Score still Ten-nil to Gryffindor."

A loud groan sounded when Rosier managed the save, mingled with the cheers elicited from the Slytherins in the crowd.

"Lestrange of Slytherin has the Quaffle now. He passes it on to Avery. Avery is heading towards the Gryffindor goalpost. Ahhh! Nice Bludger work from Perry! Quaffle is now in Gryffindor possession. Dobbyn streaking down the pitch. She is being closely marked by Staunton and Lestrange. She dodges the Bludger…. _Nice _ pass. Potter has the Quaffle now. He shoots….. YES! Potter scores for Gryffindor! Twenty-nil!"

The roar from the crowd was deafening, and Remus could feel the heat of the excitement welling up all around him. Beside him, Peter was dancing about and bellowing, "Nice one, James!"

The match continued on heatedly. The two teams were well-matched. An hour into the match, both Jenkins and Rosier had defended six goals each, and the score was eighty-seventy to Gryffindor. The tension in the stadium was at boiling point, neither team appeared to be letting up. Then Remus saw James hurtling across the pitch once more, carrying the Quaffle. The entire Slytherin team was rocketing up to block him. Padraig O'Connor swung a well-aimed Bludger at the crowd and the knot of flyers scarpered in all directions, allowing James to get a clear shot at the hoops. WHAM! James hurled the Quaffle with such force it nearly threw Rosier off the broom as he attempted to save it, and the red ball went sailing neatly through the centre hoop. 

"FANTASTIC shot from Potter of Gryffindor!" shouted Sirius. "Gryffindor still leading. Ninety-seventy!"

Meanwhile, the two Seekers. Caitlin Orr and Timothy Wilkins were circling around the pitch, each keeping their eyes peeled for the Snitch. Whoever caught it first now would clinch a sure victory for their team. Remus was keeping an eye out for any sudden dash of movement from them when there was yet another roar. This time of indignation, from everyone in the stadium. Madam Hooch's whistle blew.

"Foul! Foul!" she screeched in fury. "Penalty to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on the Gryffindor Keeper. Penalty to Slytherin for man-wrestling their Beater!"

Apparently, Martin Bulstrode, Beater on the Slytherin team had inexcusably rammed a Bludger right into Robert Jenkins's back, winding him completely and almost causing him to fall off his broom. James and Padraig had then retaliated by grabbing a hold of Bulstrode while Padraig tried to punch him in the face.

"Violent game, this Quidditch is," Remus muttered to Sirius as they watched in bated breath while Karla Dobbyn took the penalty for Gryffindor. She eyed the hoops with fierce determination, and aimed with clear precision. 

"Dobbyn scores! Gryffindor, one hundred; Slytherin, seventy!"

Avery dashed up to take the Slytherin penalty. WHACK! The Quaffle headed straight at the hoop on the right-hand side. Robert Jenkins leapt to catch it –

"Saved! An absolutely marvellous save by Jenkins! Score still a hundred-seventy to Gryffindor!"

The Slytherins in the stands were getting restless, and decided to revert to other tactics in hopes of distracting the Gryffindor team.

"Hey Potty, did you forget to brush your hair today? It's a fright!"

"Dumbo Dobbyn, has Jerky Jenkins asked you out yet? Or maybe the jerk thinks you are too dumb for his liking."

"Orr is an ogre, and smells like one too! A stench of unicorn pee, and yucky dragon's poo!"

Meanwhile, Sirius roared even louder, in an attempt to drown out the taunts.

"Slytherin in possession now! Avery has the Quaffle, he passes it on to Staunton. Staunton heads for the goalposts. Perry sends a Bludger. Staunton dodges. He drops the Quaffle. It is picked up by… TALBERT. Talbert heads for towards the Slytherin posts now. She shoots….. NO! Lestrange intercepts it. He hurtles back up the pitch. Another Bludger! O'Connor and Perry are really doing a great job with those Bludgers. The Quaffle is picked up by… by Talbert yet again. That girl is fast, she flies back down the pitch, the path is clear, she gets ready to shoot….. THAT WAS UNCALLED FOR!"

Sirius was quite beside himself, shaking an angry fist at Teresa Parkinson, who had abandoned the Bludger work and tried to stop Jean by yanking at the end of her broom and then trying to knock her off it. Jean managed to fight and stay on, but she had dropped the Quaffle, which was picked up by Lestrange. 

Madam Hooch's whistle sounded again.

"You do NOT pull back another player's broom and you certainly do not deliberately try to throw them off it!" she shrieked, quite beside herself in anger. "Penalty to Gryffindor!"

James took the penalty and scored. The score was now a hundred and fifty versus a hundred and ten. Gryffindor was leading, but not by that much. 

The Quaffle was on the move again. Remus could see Karla Dobbyn in possession of it, she tossed it to Jean, who caught it just before a Bludger came hurtling her way. She ducked, Quaffle still clutched tightly to her chest. Bulstrode and Parkinson were gaining menacingly upon her, aiming another Bludger in her direction. She threw the Quaffle at James, but Avery zoomed out of nowhere and flew off with it down towards the Gryffindor goalposts. 

"Avery has the Quaffle, he is up the pitch. He aims, aaaand yet ANOTHER FABULOUS save by Jenkins. Score still the same, a hundred and fifty versus a hundred and ten."

The match continued on, and the desperation for victory from both teams became more and more apparent. On top of Gryffindor scoring six more goals and Slytherin three, they also shared another seven penalty shots between them. 

Still the Snitch had not yet been sighted. Remus noticed Peter chewing his nails anxiously beside him, Sirius gazing intently up in the sky. There was a frenzied exchange of the Quaffle and in the middle of Sirius's lively commentary, a silence came over the crowd. Remus strained up, and saw Caitlyn Orr, the Gryffindor Seeker diving. Down below, a few feet above the grass, was a small glimmer of gold. The Slytherins were chanting now, loudly, hoping to put he off her track as the Slytherin Seeker Wilkins dashed after her.

"Orr is an ogre, she smells like one too. A stench of unicorn pee, and yucky dragon's poo! Orr is an ogre, she smells like one too. A stench of unicorn pee, and yucky dragon's poo! Orr is an ogre, she smells like one too. A stench… "

But it was no use. With a final stretch of her arm, Caitlyn closed her hand round the fluttering Snitch. Madam Hooch's whistle blew, and the crowd erupted into thunderous applause and victorious roars which reverberated through the entire stadium. Only the Slytherins' expressions remained sour.

"Score three hundred and sixty to a hundred and forty. Gryffindor wins the Quidditch Cup!"

Remus, Sirius and Peter leapt over the banister and tumbled onto the pitch. They raced up to James and gave him a huge bear-like hug each. 

"Well done, Prongs!" cried Sirius, whacking his friend on the back. "We beat those slimeballs hollow!"

* * *

The euphoria over the Gryffindor Quidditch Cup victory would probably have lasted for weeks had it not been for the arrival of the OWLs two weeks later, successfully squelching the high spirits.

The time table set out for the exams appeared on the notice-boards throughout the school the Monday following Slytherin's spectacular Quidditch defeat in. The bulletin featured a startlingly crammed schedule, with the exams beginning on Monday, finishing on Friday, encompassing up to three, even four, papers per day.

"How are we supposed to sit so many things in one day?" Remus heard Kelsey Andrews wail as she stared at one of many notices along the corridors. "And," she pointed a trembling finger at the section labelled 'Tuesday afternoon'. "How am I supposed to be doing both Arithmancy and Muggle Studies at the same time?"

"You don't _do_ Muggle Studies, Kelsey," her fellow Ravenclaw friend reminded her soothingly. "Will you just relax. The time table is no more intense than what we are used to."

She was right. It just looked more official, with the emblem of the Ministry of Magic atop each notice, and the large, elaborate signature of the Minister of Education at the bottom.

There was a distinct air of sombre-ness in the week leading up to the dreaded Monday. Troops of fifth and seventh years amassed at the library in search for some peace and quiet in order to cram the final dregs of information into their brains. Madam Pince paced up and down the aisles upon where students have spread out their numerous books and papers, her high heels drumming a rhythmic beat in the calm of the library, her sharp eyes scrutinising for any signs of mischief, but there were none.

When Monday came, the fifth-years entered the Great Hall with a sense of foreboding while the seventh-years arrived looking pale and strained. Remus had never sat such an official exam before. Well, there was nothing more he could learn for his Charms paper that morning, so he simply prayed for the best and hoped his mind wouldn't go blank at the crucial moments. 

To accommodate the students partaking their OWLs and NEWTs, the Great Hall was converted into a large classroom fitted with over a hundred small tables and chairs following breakfast, neatly arranged in rows. A large teacher's desk was positioned at the front of the Hall, behind which Professor Quirrell, the supervisor for the exams that morning, was pacing.

"Please take your assigned seats," he told the fifth and seventh years as the rest of the students departed for their usual lessons. As the students sorted themselves out, he gave his wand a flick, and a test paper, facing down, along with a sheaf of parchment appeared on each desk just as Remus reached his. 

"Taking place this morning is the Charms examination for the OWLs and Potions for the NEWT level. Please be sure you are indeed sitting the correct exam."

This comment elicited several sniggers from some people who deemed the notion ridiculous. 

"Believe me, students have attended the incorrect examinations in the past," said Professor Quirrell dryly in reply to the snickering.

"You have surely been warned before, but I think it bears repeating, that the most stringent anti-cheating charms are placed on these examination papers. Absolutely _no_ Auto-Answering Quills, Remembralls, Self-Correcting Ink, Detachable Cribbing Cuffs or Peeking Spectacles are allowed. Let's make this year the first for not harbouring any cheats, shall we? Right, it is half-past nine. Begin!"

To his immense relief, Remus found he could answer all the questions in that paper with ease. _Hard slog does pay off, I guess_, he mused as he scribbled down the theory underlining the dynamics of the Stunning charm.

Although the word pleasant could never be used to describe the exams, Remus was a little surprised (and very thankful) that the week did not drag along as much as he had feared it would. In fact, after the Charms paper, the ensuing exams came and went almost before he could put away the stacks of books and notes he had regarding the previous subject. Also, to his personal satisfaction, he found he could haul up all the facts and figures embedded within the folds of his brain when he required them. The sole paper which gave him cause for worry was Ancient Runes, where he later realised he had mistakenly translated the symbol of 'prophecy' for that of 'piracy'. And he had wondered why the sentence hadn't made sense…

Nonetheless, Remus was relieved by the time Wednesday slipped away and with it, their History of Magic exam (a paper almost as boring to answer as it was to endure Professor Binn's two-hour lectures) and their Potions practical, where Remus, for once, was certain he got his Draught of the Living Dead prepared to nigh on perfection. Careful not to give himself too much false hope, he nonetheless wondered if it would have been enough to reserve himself a place in Professor Sharkhorn's NEWT class.

The only two exams remaining were Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration. He wasn't about to let himself lapse of course, but he couldn't help relaxing slightly as they were two of his better subjects. Two more days to freedom!

The following morning, he and all the other fifth and seventh-years, once more, waited out in the Entrance Hall following breakfast as Professor Flitwick Magicked the four house tables to the edges of the Great Hall and replaced them with rows upon rows of smaller tables. A sheet of official-looking parchment was once again placed face down on each desk, and set beside it the stack of unused parchment. Professor Flitwick returned to seat himself down atop a high chair at the front of the Great Hall as the students entered once more. He looked at the clock hitting half past nine before he called out "Begin!"

Remus turned over the test paper sitting on his desk and gave the questions a quick skim through, his heart pounding, hoping he wouldn't encounter one asking to detail Diricawls, as he hadn't had time to look through them the previous night. He breathed an audible sigh of relief when he couldn't see the word anywhere on the test paper. A brief scroll through the test told him he could easily answer all the questions posed, and question ten in particular, brought a wry smirk to his face.

Remus settled in quickly, and began scribbling answers down fast. His near-miss with running out of time during his History of Magic paper had given him a sharp lesson on not to dilly-dally around with too much pondering. He shifted a bit in his seat and rubbed his temples as he made his way through the questions. He was feeling a bit peaky, though the full moon wasn't until another two weeks. He supposed it was the strain of the exams that was making him feel rather drawn. He wasn't the only one. Anthony Rockwood, normally so slick and cool, had thrown a hysterical fit in the Slytherin common room the night before, claiming he had failed all his exams and he might as well stop before he made it a clean streak. It took a double dose of Madam Pomfey's strongest Soporific Linctus before he was calm enough to be herded up to the dormitory. 

Remus finished the exams with time to spare. He gave a quick glance round the Hall and saw Peter ahead of him, scuffing the ground with his toes; Sirius across from him sprawled languidly in his chair; James, four seats in front of Sirius ruffling his own hair; and Snape, with his curtain of lank, greasy hair shrouding his face from view, bent so far forward over his parchment, he was almost smelling it. 

Professor Flitwick's voice suddenly sounded through the air, jolting him out of his trance.

"Five more minutes!"

Remus gathered himself together and hurriedly re-read his answers, frowning slightly as he pondered whether he could better phrase certain answers, and wondering if there were any more details pertaining to Grindylows other than their powerful grip, which was easy to break, and the merpeople's tendency to domesticate them. Scratching his chin thoughtfully, he hurriedly scrawled an extra line about their abundance in lakes within Britain and Ireland.

Not a moment too soon as Professor Flitwick chose that moment to squeak out, 

"Quills down please! That means you too, Stebbins! Please remain seated while I collect your parchment! _Accio_!"

The hundred plus rolls of parchment flew across the Hall and straight into Professor Flitwick's outstretched arms. The force of the action caused him to tumble backwards as several students laughed. Richard Nolan and Rosalind Drake sitting in the front row got out of their seats to pull him back up onto his feet.

"Thank you … thank you," the teacher panted. "Very well, everybody, you're free to go."

The sound of scrapping chairs and tables echoed though the Great Hall as the students all shoved their quills and inkbottles into their bags and got up at the same time. Remus weaved his way through the jumble of tables and chairs to meet up with James and Sirius, Peter joining them a few moments later.

"Did you like question ten, Moony?" asked Sirius, winking knowingly, as they poured out into the Entrance Hall. 

"Loved it," Remus said coolly. "_Give five signs that identify the werewolf._ Excellent question."

"D'you think you managed to get all the signs?" asked James, feigning concern as Sirius continued to grin wickedly behind him.

Remus adopted a serious expression and nodded as they caught up with the crowd of students pushing and shoving out the front door of the castle, in their eagerness to bask in the sunshine before heading back to the library or common rooms to swot for their final exams the following day.

"I think I did," he replied solemnly. "One: he's sitting on my chair. Two: he's wearing my clothes. Three: his name's Remus Lupin."

James and Sirius burst out laughing, while Remus chuckled in amusement himself.

"I got the snout shape, the pupils of the eyes and the tufted tail," Peter said anxiously, not joining in their laughter. "But I couldn't think of what else— "

"How thick are you, Wormtail?" James said impatiently. "You run round with a werewolf once a month— "

Remus looked round where they were standing fearfully. "Keep your voice down," he begged, hoping the crowd of Hufflepuff girls standing nearby hadn't heard the remark. He also spotted Snape a little further behind them, his long, hooked nose buried in the test paper they had just finished, studying it intensely. _Probably wondering if he could have written more_. Remus didn't think he could have. He had noticed that the Slytherin seemed to have written up to twice as much as some others during that exam.

The four of them ambled down the lawns towards the lake. Out of the corner of his eyes, Remus was aware of the lone figure of Snape venturing out of the castle as well, though still paying no heed to the balmy weather, nor the bright sunshine outdoors. 

"Well, I thought that paper was a piece of cake," Sirius said casually. "I'll be surprised if I don't get 'Outstanding' on it at least."

"Me, too," said James. His hand dived into a pocket within his robes and he pulled out a Golden Snitch.

"Where'd you get that?" asked Remus, looking at the struggling walnut-sized ball, fluttering desperately in James's grip. 

"Nicked it," answered James nonchalantly. He began messing around with the Snitch. Releasing it and allowing it to zoom up to a foot away from him before snatching it within his firm grasp again. Remus couldn't help admiring once again, how swift his reflexes were. Beside him, Peter was squealing with delight, his eyes betraying the veneration he had for James as he watched the demonstration.

The four of them made shelter in the shade of a beech tree by the edge of the lake, while to Remus's mild disquiet, Snape, still heavily embedded in the test paper, settled himself in the shadows of a clump of bushes. He wasn't doing them any harm (yet), but Remus had a bad hunch about the close proximity of the lanky, pallid teen and his friends. 

He tried to shrug off the ominous feeling he was sensing and, choosing to ignore the dappled sunlight reflecting in the lake and the laughter of a group of girls nearby, he pulled out a Transfiguration textbook and began revising the chapter on Inanimate Transformations. 

Sirius was observing the surroundings in a rather haughty manner while James carried on playing with the Snitch, gradually building up to some rather complicated and impressive captures, always successful. Remus found the shrill cries of adoration and enthralment emitting from Peter very distracting, but decided not to say anything. _Transfiguration of inanimate objects is always simpler than those involving living specimens. This is due to the complex biological systems animate subjects possess….._

Peter's excited squeals and gasps must have gone on for at least five minutes when Sirius snapped rather irritably at James. "Put that away, will you? Before Wormtail wets himself with excitement."

Remus looked up in time to see a pink tinge spreading across Peter's face. 

"If it bothers you, " James grinned, stuffing the Snitch back into his pocket. 

"I'm bored," Sirius grumbled. "Wish it was full moon." He paced about the grass restlessly.

"You might," Remus cut in forbiddingly, his head still buried in his book. "We've still got Transfiguration. If you're bored you could test me. Here— " He thrust the book at Sirius as he walked past, still pacing.

Sirius snorted in response. "I don't need to look at that rubbish, I know it all."

Remus sighed inwardly. Of course he did. If he ever saw Sirius worried about schoolwork, well, he'd eat his broomstick.

"This'll liven you up, Padfoot," James said softly. "Look who it is— "

Sirius's head turned in the direction James was looking at. "Excellent," he replied in a low tone. "_Snivellus_."__

Remus froze and his stomach plummeted right down through the patch of grass he was sitting on. He hoped Padfoot and Prongs would not do anything stupid. He hoped that for once, just once, they would stay away from any bait in the form of a Slytherin. He hoped—

"All right, Snivellus?" James shouted, as Snape got to his feet and set off across the lawn.

Remus's heart sank down to meet his stomach. 

In the meantime, Snape jerked to life so rapidly, it appeared his engrossment in the test paper the whole time was just a façade and he had been expecting a duel at any point in time. His hand dived into his robes for his wand, but James was too quick for him.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Remus saw Snape's twelve-inch rosewood wand zoom through the air and land on the grass behind him. The frown that had materialised on Remus's face at the start of the "tiffle" deepened further. The words in the book swam before his eyes as he stared blankly at a point in the middle of the page. 

"_Impedimenta_!"

Sirius had halted Snape in mid-action as the Slytherin made a dive for his wand, knocking him off his feet. A crowd was gathering round the three of them now, enjoying the show.

Remus caught sight of James and Sirius rounding in on Snape, but he himself remained rooted to the ground. Even Peter had gotten to his feet and was edging towards the fray, watching with a certain lust in his eyes. Remus swallowed hard as he tried to block the sound of bated breath radiating from the crowd a few feet away from him. He felt that he should do something, but he remained frozen in his spot.

"How'd the exam go, Snivelly?" James's taunting voice floated through the still air.

"I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment," said Sirius maliciously. "There'll be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word."

This spiteful remark was greeted by several gales of laughter. Remus swallowed hard, trying to steady both his trembling hands and the pounding in his ears. The words before his eyes blurred and faded away. He wanted to stop Sirius and James. He _should_ be stopping them. But he hesitated. Didn't he try to last time? It didn't exactly work. Remus wasn't keen to be on the receiving end of Sirius's cutting remarks yet again….

"You– wait, you– wait," Snape's rasping voice came drifting through Remus's thoughts, laden with hatred. 

"Wait for what?" came Sirius's cool reply. "What're you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?" 

A string of swear words and hexes ensued but nothing happened. 

"Wash out your mouth," Remus heard James's icy tone carry across the lawn. "_Scourgify_!"

Remus glanced up briefly and saw pink soap bubbles foaming in Snape's mouth, covering his lips, choking him. Remus was about to force himself to snap out of his stupor when a clear, very angry, voice rang out.

"Leave him ALONE!"

It came from Lily Evans, who had gotten up from her place by the lakeside and was making her way to where the crowd had gathered watching the display.

"All right, Evans?" James's voice changed its tone immediately, and Remus could see he was running his hand through his shock of black hair. 

"Leave him alone," Lily repeated, her tone as frost-like as ever, eyeing James with utter dislike. "What's he done to you?"

"Well," began James. Remus hoped and prayed for a non-provocative answer and sighed as he heard James say, "It's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean."

Laughter again. This time, from Peter as well. Remus, still staring at his book, remained silent, as did Lily, who was clearly not amused by the smart aleck quip.

"You think you're funny," her tone hostile. "But you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him _alone_."

"I will if you go out with me, Evans," James said quickly. Even in his muted horror, Remus couldn't help feeling astounded at James's gall. "Go on… go out with me and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again."

"I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squib," retorted Lily wrathfully. 

"Bad luck, Prongs," Remus could almost hear Sirius's smirk as he said this. "OI!"

Remus couldn't help jerking his eyes away from the book at Sirius's cry. Snape, apparently, had managed to grab a hold of his wand and had given James a gash across one side of his face. James swerved around and a second later, Snape was hanging upside-down in the air, his robes falling over his head; a pair of skinny, white legs and a pair of greying underpants for all to see.

Whistles and roars of laughter ripped through the air. Remus was torn between the urge to smile at the spectacle, and the heavier conscience badgering him that this was _wrong_. That he should be doing something to stop this. And that he should have done something _much_ earlier on. A cold sentiment of loathing seeped through him as he realised what his friends were doing was just as bad as the taunts, catcalls and bullying he himself had endured during his earlier years when the village people had found out he was a werewolf. His family had been forced to shunt from town to town to avoid the social stigma that came with his curse.

"Let him down!" said Lily evenly.

"Certainly," replied James, almost courteously, and with a jerk of his wand, Snape landed in a heap onto the lawn. He scrambled up immediately, clutching his wand, but Sirius was too quick for him.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!"

Remus heard a heavy thud as Snape fell rigidly to the ground.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Lily yelled, incandescent with rage. Remus noticed she had now whipped out her own wand and was looking menacingly at James and Sirius, who were eyeing her warily. They all knew that Lily was particularly adept at Charms. And hexes.

"Ah, Evans," said James keenly. "Don't make me hex you."

"Take the curse off him, then!"

James sighed heavily as he muttered a counter-curse to return Snape to normal. "There you go," he said contemptuously as Snape pushed himself up from the ground. "You're lucky Evans was here, _Snivellus_— "

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!" came Snape's unappreciative malevolent reply.

Any sympathy Remus had built up for the Slytherin vanished in an instant. _Mudblood_? Remus was not surprised James had tried to Scourgify Snape's mouth earlier on.

Across from Snape, Lily was silent for a second before replying coolly. "Fine, I won't bother in the future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, _Snivellus_."

James, however, had pounced in front of Snape and was roaring loudly, pointing his wand menacingly at him. "Apologise to Evans!"

"I don't want _you_ to make him apologise," Lily cried, glaring at James. "You're as bad as he is."

James stared at her in stunned astonishment. "What?" he yelped, running his hand absently through his hair. "I'd NEVER call you a – you-know-what!"

Lily shot him a belligerent glare. "Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can – I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK."

With that, Remus caught sight of her billowing robes as she flounced away from the scene. 

James yelled after her. "Evans! Hey, EVANS!" But Lily ignored him.

"What is it with her?" Remus heard James ask Sirius. As nonchalant as James tried to make this question sound, Remus could detect a tang of crushed defeat mingled in with the attempted cavalier tone.

"Reading between the lines, I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate," answered Sirius. 

"Right," said James angrily, "right— "

Again, Remus caught sight of a flash of light, and Snape, once more, was left dangling upside down over the grass. Remus fought to open his mouth to protest, knowing Lily wouldn't be around to control James this time.

"Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?" 

Several cries from the entertained were all James needed to hone in on Snape like a predator tormenting its prey. He raised his wand once more as Snape struggled desperately to escape, but in vain. His normally pallid face flushing red, humiliation burning in his eyes. 

The conscience that had been simmering at the back of his mind during the past ten minutes bubbled over with a resounding "_STOP_!"

There was a stark silence. James's leering voice halted dead, as did the cheers and hoots of laughter from the crowd. Remus saw them all looking towards him and realised he had spoken without realising it. A swarm of thoughts trounced round his head, some cajoling, some leering, some reproachful and a lot panicking. He tried to shut them out as he looked at the pairs of eyes bearing down upon him. Licking his parched lips and swallowing hard in an attempt to quell his hastened breathing, he forced himself to blurt out a few coherent words while mitigating the tremor in his voice. 

"Please, just- just let him go, James," he gulped. "Lily's right, just leave him alone."

"Are you nuts?" growled James. "Didn't you hear this filthy piece of scum call Evans a you-know-what?"

"Yes," said Remus, as calmly as he could while having his heart hammering fitfully inside him. He sincerely hoped James, or Sirius, wouldn't blow up at him again like that time before Christmas. "But hanging Snape upside down isn't going to erase the fact that he said it."

"But it sure teaches him!" said a Hufflepuff whose name Remus couldn't quite place at that moment. He was studying Snape, in particular those greying underpants, with an odd look of suppressed satisfaction.

Remus hesitated. It would show him, but would humiliation be the way to do it? Remus had to confess to himself that the sight of Snape being dangled upside down was callously entertaining, but he would be morbidly mortified if the situation was reversed. He was also fairly convinced that had James not hexed Snape again, someone else would have in retribution for the Mudblood comment. But Remus then had to admit that this all had begun even before that nasty remark had been made.

The arguments ricocheted throughout his head. Finally, upon seeing James's mutinous, petulant look; Sirius's bored, impatient one; and the hungry expressions of gleeful vengeance on those gathered round the disconcerting spectacle, Remus painfully made up his mind. Biting his lip until it almost went white, and with his brow so deeply furrowed it set in a straight line, he attempted a half-hearted shrug before turning away and following the path back up to the castle, his head down, his pace brisk. 

Back in the relative peace and quiet of the Gryffindor common room, Remus tried to whittle down and esconce himself in his Transfiguration studies once more. It was then he realised he had left his book by the lakeside when he had initially gotten up to protest against Snape's treatment. Remus certainly did not fancy returning to that spot by the lake and jokingly wondered if he could use the Summoning charm from the Gryffindor Tower window.

"_Accio Transfiguration book!"_

To his immense disbelief, he caught sight of his book soaring across the grounds, and gazed in astonishment as it sailed right in through the window and landed neatly in his empty hands.

_Hmm, he thought in amusement. _Neat.__

Remus sank down into the nearest armchair and continued his study of the sample answer to the question "_Transfiguration of animate and inanimate objects: Compare and Contrast". The common room was strangely devoid of other students. He had learnt off the answer to his satisfaction by the time he heard the portrait door swing open and the chatter of fellow students drifting through it. Looking up, he saw James, as cocky as ever, Sirius and Peter alongside him, with Lily Evans stalking away from them, looking supremely disdainful._

"Moony!" called James, swaggering up to Remus, trying (unsuccessfully, mind) to ignore Lily's cold, reproving gaze. "You missed lunch."

Ah, so that was what the rumbling inside him had been.

"We nicked you these," Sirius came up behind James and dumped a couple of ham and cheese rolls, a fruit scone, a banana and a large, albeit slightly squished, hunk of chocolate fudge cake onto Remus's lap. "We would have brought you the lasagne, but it was too messy to stash away in the napkins."

"It's okay, thanks," acknowledged Remus, starting on the cake first. Dessert before the main course - his mother would surely disapprove. He was curious as to what his friends did with Snape eventually, but no one brought up the subject. As Remus was frankly relieved that James and Sirius were acting their usual, cheerful selves around him, he refrained from pursuing the outcome. Given a choice between ignorance surrounding Snape's demise and another confrontation with James and Sirius similar to that before Christmas, Remus knew which one he would clearly prefer.

That evening, after cramming all he humanly could on the subject of Transfiguration, Remus opened his diary on a table in the corner of the common room, dipped a quill into his inkpot and began to write.

HoHYW

19th June

_Hello, stranger! Long time no write!_

Yes, sorry. We have been having those dreadful OWLs this week, so I've been a bit busy and tired.

_Sure, sure, I can understand. So, how are they going?_

Not too bad, I guess. Not as bad as I feared anyway. We just have Transfiguration left. It's tomorrow morning.

And the rest? Do you think you could take the NEWT classes Professor McGonagall suggested to you?

I hope so. I mean, I don't want to get my hopes all up for nothing, in case I am wrong, but I think I did okay in most of the exams so far.

_Only okay, Remus? I know from experience that your okay generally is of a higher standard than most people's._

Fine, then. I guess I did well. Quite well. Er, okay well.

_Lets leave it at the well, shall we?_

Whatever. I mucked up Ancient Runes though. Mistranslated the symbol "prophecy" for "piracy". I only realised after I handed in the paper. I could have kicked myself.

_Interesting mistake._

**Stupid **mistake.

_Oh, relax Remus! People do funny things in exams. Their brains don't always function as properly as they normally would._

I don't think it can get worse than "The ancient Greeks placed great belief in piracies."

_Well… I've seen worse._

You are laughing. I can tell. Your handwriting's all wobbly.

_My dear, you can't expect me to go without a sense of humour. But honestly, that is one of the milder mistakes I've seen. I have a friend who once had a diarian who worked for the Muggle education board and honestly, the answers they got for some of their exams!_

Such as?

_Lets see if I can remember. Yes, there was one question: What is a rhubarb? A celery gone bloodshot. _

You are making that up!

_No, not at all. I couldn't even if I tired. And then another one was a French aural exam. The person was asked what the soldiers ate when they were at war in Bosnia. The boy replied that they ate the bark off the trees._

Did they? 

_Of course not! They ate bread. Not a tree in hearing during that exam, and yet that answer was given. So your faux-pas was relatively mild._

I guess. 

_The other exams went fine, I presume? If this minor error is the only thing you are worried about?_

Yeah. It was kind of funny today though. We had Defence Against the Dark Arts, and they had a question about werewolves.

_That indeed is quite coincidental. Are you sure you got the answer to that?_

Honestly! You are just as bad as James. That was his exact comment to me afterwards too.

_Sorry, couldn't resist. Great minds think alike, right?_

_Remus?_

Er, yes. Of course.

_Are you alright? You paused quite a bit there. Maybe you are tired? I suggest you probably should go to bed for tonight and then we can continue tomorrow, when you are free from exams?_

No, I'm not tired. Or yes, I am, but that wasn't why I… Or maybe I am. I—

_It's okay Remus. You don't have to be polite and stay around to chat. Get your rest and I'll talk to you tomorrow._

Yes, okay. I think you are right. Good night, Mavis.

_Good night, Remus._

* * *

HoHYW

_You are back again? What happened to resting?_

It's still early. No one's gone to bed yet.

_What time is it?_

Half past nine.

_Is there something you want to say? It seems as if you do._

How can you tell? You can't see me, right?

_After nearly five years, you still wonder?_

After nearly five years, you are still surprised I do?

_Touché. No, I can't see you. But I can tell due to the simple fact that you came back just ten minutes after you left._

Oh, sorry. Wait, you weren't going to bed yourself yet, were you? I didn't want to wake you up.

_No, no. I was just flicking back through some of the older entries. I do that sometimes, just to recollect past memories. They can be very interesting. You learn a lot from them, and keep learning._

Did I disturb you then? You can keep on reading. I can go off and work a bit more if you want.

_Don't be silly. I feel you are working too hard as it is. So, what is it you wished to tell me?_

You won't tell, right? Not that it matters. Half the year already knows anyway.

_Remus, you know well that anything you say here is strictly confidential. Have I ever breeched that on you?_

No. Sorry, I am just a bit anxious. I hope you won't think too badly of me either…

_Think badly of you? That is indeed a novel conception._

**Please.** Don't. It's bad enough as it is. I am disgusted with myself a bit. Actually, a lot.

_Okay, **that's** nothing new_.

What do you mean by that?

_Exactly what I meant the last fifty-four times you went down along this path._

You keep count?

_Even better, I file them away and colour code them. Joking aside Remus, you need to give yourself some slack. Nothing wrong about loving yourself a bit more. _

But that's so conceited!

_Remus J Lupin, conceited? I assure you that you still have some way to go before you even reach the halfway stage._

I don't know. I could have been a little less selfish today, not been so chicken.

_Ah, you shirked some sort of duty._

How— forget that. You are far too shrewd for my discretion, Mavis.

_Centuries of practice do tend to hone one's skills._

So, do you want me to spill?

_By all means do, if it helps matters._

I don't know if it can help matters. It's too late now. But at least I can get it off my chest.

_Sure. What's that word you use nowadays? Ah, yes. Shoot._

It's something to do with Snape.

_Again? It is amusing how many run-ins you have with him considering how much you hate him._

Hate is too strong a word, don't you think? I just– dislike. Intensely. Sirius and James likely do hate him though. 

Mavis?

_Yes, I'm here. I enjoy learning about the fine distinctions you draw between certain things._

Why, thank you. But we are veering off topic and I want to get this out before I get cold feet and change my mind.

_Go on then. I'm all eyes. _

Well, it was after our DADA exam this morning. The sun was out, so we went down by the lakeside.

_Sensible thing to do._

We sat down on the grass. Well, I did. James was playing with this Snitch he had nicked – I don't know from where; Peter was, I hate to say it, but he was fawning over him a lot and Sirius was standing around, being really bored. He actually said he wanted it to be the full moon.

_That was rather callous of him._

I don't think he meant it that way. It was more for the fact we could have an adventure to look forward to. I mean, I don't dread nor hate it as much now as I did before.

_You don't have to justify his actions to me. I do understand. It still seems a tad flippant to me though._

You know Sirius. He is like that. Anyway, I said to him that if he was indeed so bored, he could test me in Transfiguration, but he refused.

_At least we know that he wasn't bored to the point of seeing revision as a distraction._

Yes. Thing is, he and James found something else instead. They found Snape.

_Oh._

I know. I- I have to confess Snape wasn't doing anything. James started it first. It- it sounds, I mean it reads, awful, doesn't it?

Mavis?

_Go on._

Okay. James rounded up on Snape and started taunting him. Sirius joined in, and they had a dig about his, er, grease.

_That was crude. Though you have said before that Snape's hygiene practices are not the most impeccable._

No, far from it, but they didn't have to have a go at him like that. Like that horrible fight before Christmas. Snape hadn't been doing anything then either. You **are** right. It was crude. I wish they would ignore the guy, like I do.

_You still worry about that fight?_

Yeah. Though everyone else seems to have forgotten about it.

_Then you probably should too. As for the others ignoring Snape, I somehow deduce from what you tell me about them, they aren't ones who would find that easy. If I recall correctly, Snape's werewolf comment back then wasn't angelic either._

He was stating a fact.

_That wasn't his intention. I wasn't surprised that your friends got angry on your behalf._

That's because they just don't like Snape. Defending me is, well, **if** it is a reason, I'm flattered. But… me? Why?

_You can be so obtuse sometimes. They see you as their friend. A very good friend. Friends stick up for each other. Granted, I am not overtly supportive of their methods in addressing this, but it is what I assume to be the answer._

They don't have to.

_My dear mulish diarian, if Snape were to call Peter a brainless Squib with no talent and a shame to the Pettigrew family, would you step aside?_

Of course not!

_There you go, and that was a mild comparison._

But that's different!

_May I ask how?_

I- I wouldn't go Scourgifying Snape for one thing!

_I would agree you would have different retaliation tactics… **Wait**, did you say Scourgifying?_

I did. After James disarmed him, Snape let off a ream of, um, lets just say **colourful**, insults. James then washed his mouth out with soap. Literally.

_That's- that's—  . Well, did you do anything?_

No.

_The boy could have choked on the foam that would have built up inside his mouth!_

I know. I wanted to, but— Lily stopped it before Snape could choke.

_At least someone is level-headed enough. So James stopped?_

No. I mean, yes. He and Lily started arguing. Or rather, Lily was doing the most part of it, while James asked her out.

_He does have some nerve, doesn't he?_

Yeah. I was surprised at the impudence. But Lily hates him. 

_Are you sure you don't mean "dislikes intensely"?_

You are taking the mickey now, aren't you? I would think hate is in order here. She told him that she wouldn't pick him even in a choice between him and the giant squid in the lake. And then later on, she went into this whole disgusted barrage of how his arrogance made her sick.

_A lady who knows her own mind. I approve._

I- I guess she was right. I mean, I— know. I mean…

_You can admit to James's faults while remaining a loyal friend, you know. Everyone has faults, and a good friend means pointing those out as well as being supportive._

You are right. As usual.

_I am flattered. _

But it isn't easy, you know. Going up to James and Sirius and telling them off. Especially when Snape **is******dislikeable and in their minds, they were just having some fun.

_You above all people should know that life doesn't usually have a lot of easy ways out. Plus, the "fun" sounds more like bullying to me. I think you got the right idea at Christmas._

No way! I can't possibly.

_Why? You got Michael Swiggler's laryngitis?_

No! Though it felt like it. But it was **awful **that time. I don't think I could take another bout of Sirius's wrath. Him, and James and Peter, have gone through so much for me, especially this year. I can't "betray" them like that. What if Sirius did decide that becoming Animagi wasn't worth it for me after all? What if they dumped me for being such a spoilsport? After so many years of being shunned and rejected, to find them. I don't think I could cope if they ditched me.

_First, I maintain you did the right thing at Christmas. Second, if Sirius, or indeed the other two, ditched you for reprimanding them, then they are, in my opinion, arrogant and shallow, and you are better off without them. Thirdly, I believe you are seriously underestimating your friends' loyalty and liking for you. I highly doubt if a (very deserved) rebuke would shatter five years of close friendship._

You do realise that it sounds a lot more straightforward when you write it out like that.

_I do indeed._

And that it is more complicated in real life.

_It may require some tact in your disciplinary actions, and you may have to weather some tempestuous complaints, but on the whole, I don't see any long-lasting complexities._

I don't want **any** complexities!

_If you are looking to earn the liking of everyone, I can tell you right here and now that it is nigh impossible. Even a great figure such as Dumbledore has his staunch opponents. _

But he seems to be able to ignore them.

_Then so can you. Well, at least Miss Evans showed up in time to prevent things from getting worse this time. _

Right. Er, but Mavis?

_Yes?_

It did, kind of, get worse.

_It did? I am almost afraid to ask._

Well, Snape got his wand back while James and Lily were having their... discussion. He Flayed James across the cheek with it. James lashed back out at him of course.

_How?_

He- he- gosh, I don't know how to say this, but he suspended Snape in the air, upside down. 

_Oh Merlin!_

It- he was in such a compromising position, we kind of learnt the fact that Snape's, erm, undergarments shall we say, need bleaching.

_Merlin, King Arthur and Knights of the Round Table! You still didn't stop him?_

I—

_You didn't._

No. I did want to, but—

_You were too "loyal" to James._

I really didn't want him to be mad at me. He is one of the very few who actually accept me for who I am, I wasn't about to get his back up. I know what you said above is true, but I really just want to avoid any confrontations.

_You can't keep avoiding them all your life, you know._

Well, whenever I can then.

_And this was one time I really do think you shouldn't have. You can't ignore doing something right just for the sake of incurring their wrath! Professor Dumbledore assigned you as a prefect. You would have betrayed the trust he put on you by letting the bullying go on._

I know. I am not saying I felt great not interfering either. I don't know what to do. Or rather, I do know what I **should** do, but it is awfully hard come the moment. Either way, I am not happy with the outcome.

_Continuing with the incident for now, did Lily do anything about this public humiliation?_

Yes. Of course she did. I wish I had her spunk. She fought for Snape to be let down, threatening to hex James if he didn't. 

_He let her go then?_

Yes, Lily is known for her proficiency in Charms, you wouldn't want to be messing with her when she is in a hexing mood. But thing is, after James dropped Snape to the ground, the ungrateful scum had the insolence to turn around and throw it back in her face. He said he didn't need any help from a Mudblood.

_Snape said that?_

Yes. Well, obviously Lily got offended and stalked off, though not before launching this tirade of her disgust at James. James got incensed, I gather from both her rebuffing his charms and with Snape's insult, and well, he hung Snape upside-down in the air again. 

_And?_

He asked if anyone would like to see him remove Snape's pants.

_You saw that happen?_

No. I left.

_You left?_

Not without trying to say something first! I did, honestly. But—

_But?_

I couldn't get the words out. Not more than a feeble plea for them to stop anyway.

_Right. I have to say both James and Snape were deplorable. I would have preferred hearing you try harder to put a stop on it though. After Sirius and Lily, you would be the next person James would bother listening to._

I do feel terrible about it. I know I should have said something more, before even the Scourgifying. But it just seemed like such an ungrateful payback for what they have done for me this year. I don't know what is worse: the hurt over Sirius's outburst at Christmas, or the guilt over doing nothing here.

_Don't think I do not understand your dilemma, but as your private mentor about personal matters, you really should not be determining your actions based purely on your assumption what others' opinions of you might be. Especially when your conscience tells you that you are doing the right thing._

I know. I'm sorry.

_Sorry here as well. I didn't mean to come across as preachy. I just feel that this may be only the start of your battle between your conscience and your fear of rejection. Everyone goes through similar. Everyone wants to be liked. It's a very human quality. Well, lets move back to less introspective matters for now. Did James accomplish removing the underpants?_

Thankfully no, as I found out during dinner. I don't think it would have been a pretty sight, if Snape's hair and skin were any indication of his hygiene standards.

_Remus Lupin! I am shocked at your candour!_

Well, it's true! Snivelly was saved from further humiliation, and the others from an eyesore when the bell rang for lunch. It was lasagne and chocolate fudge cake day, so no one wanted to miss that.

_The stomach always wins out in the end with men._

Mavis? You know just now when you wrote that everyone wants to be liked, and it is only normal?

_Yes._

How come I feel it is only just me who seems to place such a priority on it? I don't hear, nor sense, others having the fears I harbour.

_Well, it isn't exactly a conversation opener, is it? It isn't something people tend to talk about. Sure, you yourself don't announce it to everyone._

No, I guess not.

_Just because you don't hear about it doesn't mean it doesn't exist. You might feel more uptight about it simply because of what you had to deal with in the past. But everyone wants to be popular. Even James and Sirius._

They **are **already well liked!

_Not to Lily, it wouldn't seem. I have a feeling their acts of bravado is their method of dealing with it. The way you choose to remain silent._

I occasionally might get an inkling of that, though it is very fleeting. I wish I had their confidence.

_You are your own person, Remus. I agree you need a good boost of self-esteem, but don't wish to change too radically. I like you just the way you are._

Why, thank you Mavis. I am blushing now! Well, thinking through it, I can see your view. At least I know I am not the only one who worries about this. Though I have to say Snape does his best in succeeding with the opposite.

_Actually, I would cogitate that Snape, above all, craves popularity and acceptance._

Now you are really pulling my leg, right?

_No. I am being very serious. I would gather from how Snape behaves, and his lack of stellar friendships with others, is a reflection of his fear of being rejected._

That's an odd reaction then. But he does have some friends. There is Rosier, Avery, Rookwood, Nott…

_But I doubt if they are as close as yourself, James, Sirius and Peter? I wouldn't have thought so. I would say that Snape fastidiously avoids intimate relationships so he wouldn't have to go through what you are going through now. Given that he doesn't amass trusted companions, he wouldn't be opening himself up to potential refutations. He is simply boarding himself up, and rejecting others before others have a chance to reject him._

I never thought of it that way before. But that would be such a lonely existence! My life would be so wretched without James, Sirius and Peter.

_Well, from what you tell me, Snape isn't exactly a merry, frolicking bunny, is he?_

No. You actually seem sympathetic towards him.

_Maybe. From an objective viewpoint, the boy seems miserable. And he just takes it out on you, simply because you lot have a tendency to open yourself up to his attacks, purely by starting them up for him._

I wonder has he got anyone he does trust. I don't expect that he gets much support from a father who is unhinged and a mother who supports Voldemort. 

_Probably not. Lets hope for the sake of his emotional well-being, he does have someone._

You know, the more I think about it now, the more I am very thankful that my mother loves me even though I am werewolf. As did my father before he was killed in that accident at work.

_I am sure he still loves you, wherever he is now. Nice to see you gaining an understanding behind Snape's demeanour._

Yes, but don't expect that I would go and become best pals with him. I can't see it being possible, what with his unpleasant sneers at my werewolf status.

_Of course not. In fact, I count on you to stand up for yourself if he starts in on one of those derisions. Well, what time is it now? Nearly bedtime?_

Yes, it's half past ten. I should be heading up to bed. Thanks for listening, Mavis. I really appreciate it.

_Good night, Remus. And good luck for Transfiguration tomorrow._

Thanks. Good night.


	8. Owl Post

**Disclaimer: **Everything you see here is inspired by the wonderful J.K. Rowling and her Harry Potter series. I just feed off her imagination.

**Author's Notes:**  The eighth, and final, instalment in a collection of short stories detailing the Marauders' fifth year at Hogwarts, told from Remus's POV. Just to clarify where this falls within the timeline, it begins at the start of the summer holidays after that fifth year.

**A Year in the Life of a Wizarding Werewolf**

**- Owl Post**

"Rat-ta-tat-ta-tat. Rat-ta-tat-ta-tat."

Remus rolled over in his bed and sank further down within the covers. 

"_Rat-ta-tat-ta-tat. Rat-ta-tat-ta-tat._"

Groaning, he pulled one of the pillows up from underneath his head and smothered himself with it in an attempt to drown out the rapping. It was too early, far too early, to wake up. He wished his mother would let him sleep on. It wasn't as if he had a Potions class to dash off to or anything. 

"RAT-TA-TAT-TA-TAT!"

Remus jerked up on his bed. "Oh for Mer— " he began, impatiently. But then he got his bearings straight. Rubbing the lingering sleep out of his bleary eyes, he realised the persistent rapping came not from his bedroom door, but from the window. 

Flinching as he was momentarily blinded by the sunlight poring in through the glass, he squinted his eyes and just about gauged the outline of an owl hovering outside the window. It was Oedipus, the Potters's family owl. Remus kicked off his covers and padded over to let the owl in. Tied securely to the leg of Oedipus was a neatly rolled up piece of parchment. Remus removed the letter, and since he didn't have any owl treats stocked up in his room, fed Oedipus some raisins from a half-eaten packet left over the previous night. The owl nipped a few pieces gratefully, took some sips of water from the mug sitting on Remus's desk, and took off again out through the window.

Remus unravelled the parchment and began to read.

~ * ~

4th July

Hey Moony!

How's it going? Wasn't it great that we had that full moon before we finished for the summer? No better way to let loose after the OWLs and celebrate the end of the year. I had a great time racing over that obstacle course. Padfoot's mad at me, saying I knocked him into that ditch where he ended up breaking his leg. I didn't! You know that, right? Peter's still traumatised over the verbal defeat with the Jarvey. Give them two months, and they will be back hungry for more in September, instead of doing all this moaning. Honestly!

So, any plans yet over the summer? Nothing here. Boring. Though at least I get to go flying everyday. But it's not that much fun without someone else to wrestle a Quaffle with. Can't wait till this time next year when we can Apparate! Saves all this nonsense with Floo powder or Portkeys. Dad's colleague tried going home by Floo powder the other day after several pints of mead in The Three Broomsticks, ended up puking all over the hearth in the living room right in front of his wife. Oops.

Owl back soon!

James.

~ * ~

6th July

Prongs,

You _did_ shove Sirius into that ditch. Admit it. I was amazed Padfoot could stick it for the rest of the night and make it up to the castle to Madam Pomfrey's. You should have seen his face at the hospital wing. It was white as chalk. Does this mean you still haven't apologised to him? 

It was stupid of Wormtail to hang around that Jarvey anyway, especially when he couldn't insult it back. Maybe if he hadn't tried to bite it in the first place…

No plans for the summer, but I shall be enjoying a peaceful two months free from your barrel of shenanigans. You absolutely cannot imagine how blissful that is.

Yours ever so truly,

Moony.

~ * ~

7th July

Dear Sirius,

How is the leg? I gather from James you have still have an apology outstanding. The blighter now claims that he was not responsible for the incident. Would you like me to hex him for you? I would be extremely willing to do so.

Are you still in London? Would you plan to go down to Godric's Hollow sometime this summer? I haven't heard from Peter yet. James tells me he is still distressed from those Jarvey insults. I think Prongs is making it up. Peter gets more insults from the two of you than he would from the entire Jarvey population.

Yours in Mooniness,

Remus.

~ * ~

8th July

Hi Remus!

I am going off to La Belle France tomorrow! Trying to cram some of the useful phrases here. Which really means just knowing 'la glace', 'du chocolat', 'des gateaux', 'des bonbons'. For the rest, I'll just follow my parents. Oh, the phrase « est-ce que vous parlez l'anglais ? » is also useful. Lets just hope they say « oui »!

Ignore James. I am _not_ 'distraught' by that blasted Jarvey. He's making it up. Sirius is still waiting for his apology before he will write to Prongs. I second that. 

A bientôt,

Wormtail.

~ * ~

9th July

Yo Moony,

Wormtail's away to France. Lucky bugger. Am still stuck here at Grimmauld Place, where the closest thing to France is the "_toujours pur_" inscription on the family tapestry. I am planning to bung off to Prongs's soon however, though the bastard's still denying he rammed me into that pit. I should have shoved some Veritaserum down his throat while I could.

It's hell here. Mum's screeching upstairs about the Ministry letting half-bloods work for them and Dad's just after roaring at Andromeda (again) through the fire for selling out to Muggle-borns. Regulus is just hanging around and sucking up to them. 

I need out of here fast.

Padfoot.

~ * ~

12th July

Hi Moony,

James here, and Sirius is with me now as well. He's finally come round and is talking to me again.

_Wait, don't listen to him Moony. He was the one who apologised first!_

Hey! _I _was in the middle of writing here! Anyway, he showed up on Wednesday and we've been solemnly swearing we are up to no good since then. 

By the way, did I tell you dad got a Muggle contraption just before I came home for the summer? It is this machine that plays moving pictures. Like wizard photos, but they move around telling a story. I think dad called them films, and the machine is an RVC or something.

_VCR. I heard Jean Talbert mention it before. Supposed to stand for something like video cassette recorder. James's dad got one of those video cassettes last night so we ended up watching this film. _

They've got Animagi in it! Maybe not proper Animagi. The two people in it were cursed. The guy changed to a wolf at dusk and the woman into a hawk at dawn. They didn't want to though. Imagine not wanting to become Animagi. We should have gotten that dark sorcerer to hex us. Would've saved us three long years of work.

The storyline was too mushy I thought. It's this romantic sap. James and I just watched it for the transformations. The kissing was disgusting.

It was not! The girl looked like Lily.

Yeah, that's all that matters then. James would watch anything so long Evans look-alikes are in them. He's a lost cause now.

James.

Sirius.

~ * ~

14th July

Dear Peter, 

Are you still in France? I guess I'll know if Ptolemy here takes a longer time to return. Seen anything interesting? France is supposed to have some of the most wonderful chateaux in the world, and historical figures such as King Louis XIV, Marie-Antoinette and Napoleon. Then there's Robespierre and his revolutionary efforts. There is supposed to be a prestigious wizarding school there too. Beaubaxton's. 

Of course, if you are in France, you would be celebrating the Bastaille today. I would love to visit France sometime. The infrastructure in Paris alone is to die for. Then there is the history and the culture and the eccentric lifestyle. 

I guess the cuisine isn't half bad either. Owl over some of those Pain du Chocolat's if you can.

Yours in Honeydukes Chocolate,

Remus.

~ * ~

16th July

Padfoot and Prongs,

I think I will digress at who initiated the contact with whom between the two of you.

That film is called Lady Hawk. I've seen it once somewhere. If you thought that was mushy, then you clearly haven't seen the other stuff. Some of those wartime ones have people dying for their love interests left and right. Or they make a whole anguish fest out of giving up a girl for the sake of one's country. Muggles are strange. They even dance about this angst. If Padfoot ever saw Swan Lake, he'd probably retch. 

You should ask your father to get out this thing called the Godfather the next time, James. I haven't seen it yet, but it is supposed to be a Big Thing. I saw posters for it pasted all over the shops when mum and myself went into Crewe last week. They were for the sequel. The first film came out two years ago.

Prongs probably thinks any girl looks like Evans nowadays. I don't think that Ladyhawk girl even had red hair.

Moony.

~ * ~

18th July

Hey Moony,

What's Swan Lake? As for those Muggle films, imagine killing yourself for a girl. That is so stupid! 

Prongs is out de-gnoming the garden at the moment as punishment for Butt-Sticking his granny to the armchair this morning. She couldn't come off the seat with any of the charms his mum tried using, so in the end the poor lady had to wriggle out of her skirt and then borrow one of her daughter-in-law's instead.

I hear James calling. I think he wants me to help. I really shouldn't, it is so much more fun to stand about and laugh at those gnomes pelting him with clods of soil.

Sirius.

~ * ~

21st July

Salut Remus!

I am back from France, and just in time too. I got the OWL results this morning, and am sure you did as well.

How did you do? I was amazed to see I got an 'A' in Potions, Astronomy and Charms, an 'O' in Herbology and an 'E' in everything else. Yay me. I never would have thought it. Mum and dad are shocked and delighted. They are taking me to Diagon Alley over the weekend for a new set of dress robes, a Gobstone set and all the ice cream I want at Florian Fortescu's.

France was wild. We went up that Eiffel Tower of course. Shame I couldn't Apparate up. But it probably was safer just trudging up there the Muggle way. My brother tried to Apparate up and ended up on the railing, nearly falling off it. It was 'très epuisé' though. Mum and dad refused to use those things Muggles called "lifts" and insisted we climbed the stairs the whole way up. I lost count of how many flights we went up, but I can tell you it is worse than going up the Astronomy Tower. They did have these posters at every landing with accounts of different things people have used the Tower for. Some of those Muggles seemed more mental than Sirius and James put together.

I heard in St. Petersburg, you have this place you have to climb up stairs to as well, only there they play marching music to help you along.

Oedipus just flew in. Must be a letter from James.

It's from both Sirius and James actually. They both got an 'O' or an 'E' in everything, of course. For me, I am just proud of the one 'O' and my lack of 'D's. 

Wormtail.

~ * ~

22nd July

Hi you two,

Congratulations! I heard both of you did great in the OWLs. So have you decided which subjects you are going to do now?

I got an 'A' in Ancient Runes; an 'O' in DADA, Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures; and an 'E' in everything else. Not too bad, I guess. So it looks like I am looking at two more years worth of Potions since I got into Sharkhorn's NEWT class, and here I was secretly wishing I might not need to entertain that prospect. At least being able to drop Astronomy means minus the weekly midnight trek up those endless stairs to the top of that tower.

Peter did fantastic too. I assume he's already told you all about it? He claims the Eiffel Tower is worse than the Astronomy one, but somehow I don't think that is possible.

As for Swan Lake. It is this Muggle dance show where the girl is cursed to be a swan during the day. This prince falls in love with her when she turns into a maiden at night. Enters evil sorcerer who doesn't want the curse broken so he tricks the prince to proclaim his love for the wrong girl. Prince gets devastated when he finds out he's been tricked, so he jumps into the lake with the maiden, and the curse gets broken that way. But unfortunately the two lovers die. 

The things Muggle minds come up with. Honestly. Don't they learn something as simple as "Finite Incantatem" usually takes care of it each time?

Moony.

~ * ~

25th July

Dear Moony,

Oh, Swan Lake. You were right, Padfoot's retching. We both maintain you know far too much Muggle stuff for your own good. 

The OWLs were great, though I have no idea what to pick now. I would ditch all for Quidditch, but I don't think McGonagall's going to be too pleased about that. You should be delighted with your results. Stop being so reserved and impassive. 'Not too bad, I guess'? Celebrate! Have some of these Choc-o-Fudge Balls to give yourself a sugar high.

Delighted for Peter too.

James (Sirius sends his regards from the bathroom. He is still puking from the Swan Lake scenario)

~ * ~

28th July

Padfoot, Prongs,

I. Am. Not. Talking. To. You. EVER.

This letter exists solely for me to voice my displeasure. 

First, it was mortifying to say the least when your discombobulated heads popped up here without warning. Our neighbour was actually in the kitchen asking for Jobberknoll feathers when you guys screeched at the top of your lungs about me being a grumpy old git who has a stick up my backside. The fire has since been extinguished and the Floo network is cut off to both of you permanently.

Second, you guys tampered with those Choc-o-Fudge Balls, didn't you? You dumped a pile of powdered Alihotsy leaves into the filling! I have been in hysterics ever since Thursday, and still am. The local apothecary has run out of Glumbumble treacle, and it won't be delivered until next week. You guys are going to be so dead when I get my hands (or jaws) on you. No wonder Evans said she would date that giant squid before she goes near you, Prongs. I agree with the girl completely.

Cutting off all contact now,

Yours in Total Disgruntled-ness,

Remus.

~ * ~

28th July

Hi Wormtail,

Glad you had a great time in France. Well done for the OWLs. You must be so proud! What ice-cream did you get from Florian Fortescu's?

James and Sirius are lethal when alone together. I swear I am going to murder them one of these days. They are what the French would call _insupportable_! 

I am writing only to you from now on in.

Yours in (literally) helpless laughter,

Moony.

~ * ~

31st July

Hi Remus,

Yeah, I heard about the prank Padfoot and Prongs played on you as I got an Owl from them the day they sent you those spiked Choc-o-Fudge Balls. They sent some to me too, but our cat ate them first so it bore the brunt their joke instead.

Dad forgot to re-establish the Floo network after coming back from France, so I was spared the in flesh-and-blood howler. What did your neighbour say when he heard the racket?

Are you over the laughing fit now, or has it not worn off yet?

Peter.

~ * ~

6th August

Hey you,

You can't continue ignoring us you know. 

Hee hee. Are you still in hysterics, mate?

Still huffing? Well, if you don't have a fire, we'll just have to Floo over to your neighbour's.

The one who was asking for the Jobberknoll feathers. Ha ha!

Then shout so loudly you would be able to hear us in his fireplace all the way from your house. 

And we will keep pelting you with Owls in the meantime. You greedy git. You must have stuffed yourself with the whole box of Choc-o-Fudge Balls in one go if you were laughing the entire weekend. That'll teach you!

You are going to have to talk to us sometime you know.

Because if you don't, you are going to regret it.

Yeah. We can think of many worse things to do to you than serving you innocent-looking Choc-o-Fudge Balls.

James.

Sirius.

~ * ~

I'm sure you could, Remus thought in muted amusement as he looked up from the letter. You could never under-estimate those two. The silent treatment, he knew, was very effective however. It never failed to drive them nuts.

His hysterical fit had finally dissipated, thanks to obtaining a double shot of ultra pure Glumbumble treacle at the apothecary's on the day it was delivered. It had been an exhausting few days while it lasted though, and his own mother finding the entire situation highly comical hadn't helped any. 

You just wait, he thought, smiling to himself. I'll teach you two for trying to mess with me.

Remus looked out the window where Ptolemy had flown in. The midday sun was beating down mercilessly onto the scorched lawn below. As much as he loved being home, Remus was filled with a sudden longing for the extensive grounds of Hogwarts; the soaring turrets of the ancient stone castle; the winding corridors and moving staircases; the musty quiet of the library contrasting with the bright cheerfulness of the Gryffindor common room. He missed it all. 

And there were his friends. Remus knew he could count on them. Every one of the three. Over the years, Remus had never waned in his appreciation of the chance he had been given. The chance to have been accepted into Hogwarts, the chance to learn, the chance to obtain qualifications required for his future career. But perhaps the biggest chance he had been given out of Professor Dumbledore's act of kindness was the fortune to have encountered three boys. Three individuals who had turned out to become people Remus would trust with his life. Four youths who together, forged such a strong bond of history and friendship, that perhaps even death itself would not be able to sever. 

~ * ~

That's it folks. Finito! Thanks a lot to everyone who has reviewed this, and who has given feedback and various comments in private. I really appreciated everything. I do have a couple of plans for new fics, so watch this space! Both are also centred around the Marauders as well. What can I say? I am a big-time Marauder fan. 


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